Word Count: 522
It’s not like he had no idea it could happen, been unaware or in some lover’s form of denial. It hung like a large shade tree over their lives every day. Her husband was bound to find her eventually.
“Come here!” she said. “Come see this.”
He went over to where she was sitting. Looked over her shoulder at images laid out in grid on her monitor. “This was at St. Lawrence last June. The riverboat ride, our second date. Remember?”
The image showed two happy people who he didn’t recognize now. He nodded. Hesitated while she clicked on the squares. Brought them up close. He saw the look in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asked. Quiet, half bitten-back. She was using the pictures like a big ring of keys. Hoping to unlock what she wanted to hear him say.
She looked up at him sadly. “I have to delete them. He’d be hurt. You understand.”
He nodded again. Went back to the couch and sat down, stared at her back. He knew she was waiting. Sitting there hoping. He spoke quietly. “You don’t have to go back to him, you know.”
She turned around, but only halfway. “I’ll be needing someone…you know, health-wise. Insurance. Care. Eventually. He has that, and you…can’t take care of me, you know, at the end.”
He wanted so badly to say that he could. That he would. He honestly couldn’t tell her he could. She needed marriage, commitment. A long-term agreement that ironically wasn’t going to be long term. He looked away from her and down to the book he was holding. He didn’t know what to say. He thought that he loved her. Felt that he did. But this was so much to take on.
“I’ll be going tomorrow,” she said. “Let’s spend our last night not thinking about it.” She came over to him, took his hand. “Let’s go to bed.”
The morning was awkward. He hadn’t slept well. She tried to be cheerful as they went through the normal routine. Told him she loved him and the past year had been the happiest she’d ever spent. Thanked him, kissed him goodbye. Told him she’d let him know when she got there. Would keep in touch if he’d like. Said he’d better hurry or be late for work. He held her tighter, trying to push out the words but all that came out was goodbye.
He tried to call her from work mid-morning. Didn’t know what he would say but knew that he missed her already. Felt the sad emptiness. Felt the shame. He thought about her all day.
He opened the door and the silence was overwhelming. More than he thought it would be. Wished he had been able. Wished he had been what she needed. Wished he could be.
On the table he found the letter. Read the words over twice and went pale. Ran into the bedroom where he found her. You didn’t really believe I could go back there, she’d written. I’m so sorry, but I rather die now, here with you.
