The papers are on the kitchen table.

  Why do I need to always prove to them that I love them? Just why do I need to feel like I don’t belong in my own home?

  I decided to finally choose myself.

  I learned that to do that, I must close doors inside myself.

  Sebastian’s coffee is beside them, made at six forty-five for the last time. I don’t know why I made it. I couldn’t leave without taking care of the morning first. Even this one. Even now.

  I move through the house.

  I don’t take much. My clothes. My documents. The name I was born with. I leave the kitchen tools I chose. The cupboard arrangement that makes sense in my head. The yellow corner of Elise’s room.

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  It feels clean, leaving it all. Like a record. The evidence of my care staying in the house after I’m gone. The house still running on every system I built and nobody knowing why until it starts to fail.

  I stand in the doorway of Elise’s room.

  She’s asleep. Arms wide. Mouth slightly open. Completely trusting.

  She has my cheekbones. My hands.

  I love you. I love you so much and I know that won’t make sense to you for a very long time. Maybe never.

  I cross the room. I bend down. I kiss her forehead so lightly she doesn’t move. I look at her face one more moment.

  I remember when Elise had run to Annie with the same excitement she used to run to me. I told myself children choose the parent who feels safest. That day, it wasn’t me. Or maybe, it wasn’t really me.

  Then I go.

  The front door closes behind me with a sound like nothing.

  I get in the car. I pull out of the driveway, I turn at the corner, and I drive.

  I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

  I say it to the road ahead of me the whole way.

  I don’t stop saying it for a long time.