An excerpt from Geoff Rickly of Thursday’s book has been shared on The Ringer:

Huddling behind a parked car across the street from our apartment, I watch our front door, waiting for Liza to leave. She has a work event tonight. I’ve kept track of them in my calendar so I know which nights I’ll be able to use openly in the comfort of my own home. When she finally steps out, she looks incredible—armored in a lightweight, thigh-length, chain mail dress, shoulders draped in a chic, black trench coat, makeup sophisticated and smoky.

It burns, seeing her like that. I tell myself, Sometimes appearances are all we have. She probably feels worse than you do. Taking stock of myself—a man hiding behind an old Toyota Corolla with a garbage bag in his hands—I know it isn’t true. She doesn’t feel worse than I do. No one does.