He had organized mail.
He had stored documents.
He had remembered passwords I forgot I had shared.
He had encouraged me to let him handle calls because I was tired after work.
None of those things had looked dangerous by themselves.
Together, they had created access.
The hardest repair was with Abigail.
For several nights, she slept at my mother’s apartment even after Gregory was gone.
She wanted the hallway light on.
She wanted to know where my phone was.
She asked whether the locks at home had been changed.
I answered every question plainly.
Yes, the locks were changed.
Yes, Gregory was gone.
Yes, she could tell me if something felt wrong even when she was not sure why.
Christopher and I also changed how we communicated.
Not because our divorce disappeared.
It did not.
We still disagreed about schedules, expenses, and ordinary parenting decisions.
But Gregory’s favorite weapon had been the space between us.
