Now, she was navigating it without him. She closed the album gently, got up, and wandered to the sink to rinse her mug. The house felt heavier in his absence—quieter, more spacious in the worst way. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself most days.
The doorbell rang. She wiped her hands on a towel and opened the door to find Sandra from across the street, holding a covered casserole dish. “Thought you might want something homemade,” Sandra offered kindly. Gwen nodded, managed a faint smile, and took the dish with both hands.