“What do you need to deal with?” I push his stomach with my palm as though to urge a response. He sighs and gets up, leaning over me as he climbs off the couch and plants a kiss on my head. He gets up, picks up his discarded clothes, and turns his back on me.

“I’m paying for Tasha’s dad’s med bills. His insurance fell through, and I felt like it was the least I could do. She texted me the number, and I need to call the treatment facility.” He carries on picking up our ...