April 6, 2009

In the afternoon, he realized the extent of her betrayal. It erased the good morning: Marsalis on the stereo; the frittata cooked just long enough to brown, but not burn; the scent of her shampoo lingering long after she’d left the shower.

As she stood by the door, her overnight bag slung on her shoulder, a rolling suitcase by her side, he asked her how she’d managed to fool him for so long.

“I don’t know that’s the word I would choose,” she said. “All I did was behave in a certain way. You’re the one who never noticed.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: