“Did you know otters hold hands when they sleep so they don’t drift away? We should be like otters,” she said, grabbing my hand and snuggling close. It’s dark in the little apartment. And in my memory it’s also very cold, owing to my habit of keeping the air conditioning to polar bear standards in those days.

“Of course.”

“And you’ll never let go. I mean it, or I’ll drift away.”

“I’ll never let go! Sleep, now. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s painfully hard to forget such things, though perhaps worse to remember.