What happened after that? I don’t even know how to answer that question. Which after? Here is where I wish I had a straight line to follow. There are some moments that seem to matter. As a condition of his visa, he had to stop working for a period after we moved, and I was working more than ever. He got a job, and then I lost mine. We were never in our apartment at the same time. I began to tell other people things I used to only tell him, thinking I was relieving our relationship of unnecessary stress. I was just creating more things we didn’t know about each other. We fought. I apologized, over and over again, but I did not change. Why had I married him? we asked each other, by which we meant, why, besides the reasons we told other people. I didn’t know. Could we stay together forever, was the question I asked, again and again, but what I meant was would we. I asked questions of everyone, tried to find someone to tell us what to do: Should we get a dog, or go to therapy, or plan a vacation? Should we move back to the place where we rarely fought, where we had stayed together for years and years, the place where we had known something about each other no one else did?