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55

It’s there now. A mask of anger. Thinned out lips, crossed arms over her chest, eyelids narrowed as she glares at me.

There are times I just want to unwrap those arms and shake her, beg her to show me who she really is, what she’s feeling underneath it all. Maybe my honesty will make her do that.

At this point, it’s all I have left.

“I didn’t fuck her,” I say. “But I have in the past, times when we weren’t swinging.”

“I know.”

I shake my head. “How?”

“You don’t chase me like you used to, so I know someone else has been getting your attention. Then, I smelled her on your face when you came home from your morning run. I didn’t know it was her. I just assumed.” She isn’t even yelling, but her voice is sharp.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

She breaks our eye contact and looks out the kitchen window.

I already know the answer to my question. Shit between us just works. It’s easier to stay together than to separate. It isn’t like she isn’t getting laid. She pretty much does what she wants w
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