She left the paintings strewn all over the apartment. Imagining this feeling was not unlike one she’d have if she was taking a lover behind his back. The paintings the evidence, like underwear stashed under the bed. Only she deliberately left them out for him to see. Subconsciously she knew she was trying to incite something, but she felt a fear gnawing at her. Like a fever keeping her up at night. She couldn’t leave him because she was used to him. He was a drug she both felt disgusted by and drawn to.

Not knowing what to do, she did nothing at all.

So the wedding was planned. The flowers and gilt-backed chairs ordered. Everything precise, precise. The flight home was the first time she’d been on a plane since she’d flown to New York from Tallahassee. The clouds outside her window, so close, like cotton candy she could just reach out and stuff into her mouth.

As they landed in Georgia, the fields of corn were waving welcome back to her, and her mind was like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces.