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"I figured since I was practically living here, I owed you some rent.
The next morning, I found cans of chicken noodle soup and clear juice stocked in the kitchen; tissues and pain relievers in the bathroom; and bedding folded on the ottoman.
I reached out to Chris who handed me the bottle I'd left on the counter by the sink. The water was warm now, but it was wet and helped my dry throat.
"Do I have to worry about you having suppressed feelings of resentment toward your mother because she woke you too early each morning when you were growing up.
God help me. I kept pacing the length of the kitchen, pausing every few passes to glance at my phone on the counter.
One run-in had been enough.
Then one day, I swung by our shared apartment over the studio before I headed to my second job.