I paused.
“Because commitment is simple. It means you stay.”
He became very quiet after that.
At the time, I didn’t understand why those words mattered so much.
Later, I would.
—
When Luke moved into my house, he behaved as though everything belonged to someone else.
He made his bed perfectly every morning.
Washed his plate the second he finished eating.
Folded towels without being asked.
He moved through every room like a guest terrified of leaving fingerprints.
Like a boy who believed the secret to being allowed to stay was taking up as little space as possible.
It broke my heart.
One Saturday morning, I nearly tripped over a loose porch board.
Before I had fully regained my balance, Luke appeared with a screwdriver.
“How long has that been loose?”
“A couple years.”
He stared at me.
“You’ve been walking over this for two years?”
“I enjoy danger.”
