He exhaled.
“We’ve grown apart.”
I looked at him, waiting for the rest.
There had to be something else.
An argument I hadn’t understood.
A problem he’d never mentioned.
A painful truth he’d finally decided to share.
But he said nothing.
“Are you seeing someone?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, avoiding my eyes.
“Then what happened?”
“Nothing happened, Eleanor. We’re simply different people now.”
I stared at the papers.
“Are those divorce documents?”
He nodded.
I couldn’t believe it.
Veintidós años.
Una hija.
A house full of memories.
A life I’d worked so hard to build.
Y lo estaba terminando con unas frases vagas.
– Por Favor, Marcus. Háblame”.
He stood.
“There’s nothing more to say.”
Luego recogió sus llaves.
El siguiente sonido que recuerdo fue el clic de la luz del porche mientras caminaba afuera.
I sat at that table long after his car disappeared.
