What My Husband Shouldn't Know
of silence passes and, slowly, we both walk away, but without turning our backs on each other. The silence stretches, the distance grows, and finally, he raises his hand, waving goodbye before putting his hands in his back pockets. “Good night,” he says. I just stare at him. And good night. And then I pull away, feeling sick inside. I didn't even ask his name. It would be nice to say "hi" if I saw him again. I don't have time to brood over it because my phone rings and I pull it out of my pocket, seeing Nicolas' name on the screen. I stop on the sidewalk and answer. “Hi, are you in the Grounders? I ask. - I'm almost there. He doesn't say anything, though, and I pause before calling his name