MIAMI: "I'm not cleaning that up."
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Some people would have looked as a miscarriage as a relief. Others as a tragedy. I hadn’t even thought of a name for the baby - maybe Cecily, maybe Lydia, maybe Anderson, I told Lainey years later - and suddenly there was this void. We’d created something out of ourselves and out of each other, even though we had no intention of doing so, we suddenly had to prepare for it and now it was inexplicably gone. It drove a wedge between Jamie and I, and the rift became a valley.

We continued to do all the things we did together, but we fought, a lot. He had nosebleeds at least once a week and blamed stress, or a bad hit during a game, but I found a pair of curled, dusty 20-dollar bills under his set of keys one morning, when I was looking for my sunglasses. I didn’t ask wha...

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