No Longer Your Perfect Husband

rip malls, then to open fields and small towns that all looked the sa

ieter. The air smelled like damp ear

the porch was sagging, and weeds had conquered the front yard. After my parents died, th

ss asset. To me, it was t

nder a loose stone by the back steps. The lock was stiff, b

inating dancing dust motes. Everything was covered

ff of dust filled the air. I sat down, and for the

che of my relationship with Lily. It all came crashing d

ay, I star

y clearing the yard, pulling weeds until my hands were raw and blistered. The physica

ken expectations. Don't speak unless spoken to at her parents' dinner parties

e a small, abstract sculpture I' d made in my spare t

on the ma

d her head and said, "Oh, Ethan. That's... rustic. It do

that afternoon. I found i

ast piece of a

pay was good, and it kept me out of the house for eight hours a day. My only escape was video games. Late at night, after everyo

l playing with your toys,

that it was the only

ed the roof, and scrubbed every surface until it shone. I found my father's

by. Us on camping trips, at the beach. They looked so happy. So in love.

ult, dated shortly after Lily was born. I had done it in secret. Olivia had

med it: I was her

one I had just managed to break. She was my blood, but

elt a spark of an idea. I bought a cheap smart

rneath. I filmed myself rebuilding the front porch, step by step. I didn't talk muc

e "The Rebuilder." I didn't expect anything. It was just a way to do

ed and forg

ions. The video had a thousand views. Then five tho

ere overwhelmi

sfying t

is a real

hing so peacef

, ple

ideo, this time of me fixing the le

platform. My videos were eligible for monetiza

two hands, doing something I loved. It was more real than any

ing a house. I was rebuilding my life. The past, with its silent

ing one afternoon jolted m

ut it was from my old city'

ut they called b

my voice tig

n? It

remembered it. Smooth, confide