She spoke less with every passing day. “Words are crass,” she said. “Words are for strangers. If what we have is special, you should already know what I’m thinking.”
“Do you know what I am thinking?”
“That you love me and wish we could just talk, like normal people.”
He looked at her in surprise and hope but saw neither in her eyes.
“That my love is not special enough and that I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what you wanted.”