"Well, maybe they’ve been there, you just never noticed them before," he said.
We have been through so much together. I let the socks fall onto the couch. I could pick them up later. If they weren’t important before, they weren’t that important now. I let my anger go. That night, as we went upstairs, Dave grabbed his socks and threw them down the laundry chute. I should have trusted him to do his part.