“What are we doing, Jack?”
“It’s too early for abstractions. Relax. I’ll make coffee.”
There was a crescent moon the night he asked her to marry him. Years gone by. Emily couldn’t remember what time of day it had been. Cared even less. She remembered the divorce; “you were readier than me”, he (always) rationalized.
Both had other partners now.
“Let’s go barefoot in the morning dew.” Jack suggested.
“We’re having an affair?”
“It looks that way, Emily.”
“God help us.”