“I don’t understand why you’re leaving.”
She straightened from her packing, socks in her hand. Her eyes gazed out the window; her mind stared at him, mouth a-gape. She thought about the erosion of yelling, of failed therapy, of constant, sour disagreements over the now-grown kids; of the nightly rehearsals of co-workers’ inadequacies, his own essential cleverness, of his genuine accomplishments; of the sacrifices she’d made that he should never have accepted without reciprocation. She remembered how this evening, again, he asked her merely, “Anything here I need to know?”
She dropped the socks and responded, “I know you don’t.”
She straightened from her packing, socks in her hand. Her eyes gazed out the window; her mind stared at him, mouth a-gape. She thought about the erosion of yelling, of failed therapy, of constant, sour disagreements over the now-grown kids; of the nightly rehearsals of co-workers’ inadequacies, his own essential cleverness, of his genuine accomplishments; of the sacrifices she’d made that he should never have accepted without reciprocation. She remembered how this evening, again, he asked her merely, “Anything here I need to know?”
She dropped the socks and responded, “I know you don’t.”
