As I sat alone reading his letter, my grief changed shape.
For years, I believed Troy had abandoned honesty because he no longer valued our marriage.
The truth was almost harder to bear.
He had tried to carry suffering alone because he could not bear to look weak in front of the person who knew him best.
He thought distancing himself would make it easier for me to move on when he was gone.
It was a terrible kind of love — not cruel, but frightened. Not selfish in the ordinary sense, but deeply mistaken.
He tried to protect me from pain by hiding the truth.
Instead, he gave me a different pain: suspicion, confusion, divorce, and years of believing I had been replaced.
