Summary:
This is a story about forgetting. Which, ironically, led to a lot of remembering. I lost twenty years of my life in one night. But in that loss—in that lonely space between how I thought my life would turn out and how it did—I found parts of myself I’d thought were gone forever.
“I can tell we are in a fight, but this is bigger than that, so maybe we can—”
“We can’t.”
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“Whatever you were going to suggest, we can’t do it. Because we’re not in a fight, Hermione. We’re divorced.”