Washington, DC 2019

You tell me you want to talk to me, away from home. The suddenness of it scares me. It has gravity and things had been going so well. Still I feel like it's going to be bbad news. We decided on ___, the same restaurant I'd met Jack at. The place on the water. It's still hot late August and there's hardly aa breeze this afternoon. As I wait, I think back to meeting Jack here. Although it' not really, it seems so long ago and honestly I can't imagine that platonic intimacy with your brother now. It was the timing of things: my suicide attempt, your affair, and the end of his marriage to Jane. I would have no interests in those lunches or calls. I am guessing now that he's found a new 24 year old girlfriend he wouldn't have much interest in it either. I fiddle with my wedding ring. I kept it despite handing them back to you the night I saw you making love to Leora Hall. I had given them back to you but when you moved out you left them on the dresser and I put them back on. It was something I thought back then. It was maybe a sign?

The harbor is still and there I the slightest suggestion of autumn in the air. It's the light mostly, not the summertime yellow, a hint of orange. Northerly. And the air is warm. It's so rare, you needing me for lunch, during the work week. You are so absorbed by your work and life at the University. Once you set foot on campus you are where you were meant to be. It's cool how you seem to so fully belong in that environment. Teaching, yes but in the world of literary theory, and the acceptability of ongoing critical analysis and literature. The magic of writing. The culture of the intellect not hampered by the world outside of Academia. I swear to God if you had been my professor when I was in college I would have been madly in love with you. Despite my not being a writer, I would have been inspired to write books like Jane Eyre or...God knows. I'd have done anything for your attention or approval, I'm sure.

I was so madly in love with you. And I am still so madly in love with you.

This lunch-your invitation has such a tone of seriousness that I feel anxious waiting here on the outdoor patio. We made love just that morning and everything seems to be healing. So why the? Our home is beginning to feel like a home again. Maybe even better than before you left. My mental illness seems almost completely better. And I imagine that our opening up about the trauma and your experience of it, I thought that was a breakthrough, deepened our connection and love. I've been thinking of vacations we can take with and without the kids. I've been making plans to go back to work, to finish my license. You seem happy Edward, so why this?

You enter the restaurant and I immediately remember the teenage you at Slater's beach, the way all our peers. Topped when you or Jack arrived on the beach or at a party. I see you now at the outdoor podium behind which a hostess is stationed. I can only see the back of her head but I noticed her when I entered. She's about the same age as me when I met you at Georgetown. I see you, facing me but not noticing me yet. Your expression is friendly, a smile but not too charming. You are not like Jack with young women. Yo duo not turn on the charm, ignite flirtation or a girl's fluster that comes with it. You act-as. You had when you knew me as a teenage girl—nice but somewhat indifferent.

When you gaze across the dining groom, your eyes land on me. In that moment right before recognition I can see your unconscious expression -some say micro-expressions- I see your face change before it lights up. I know that you love me. This is how I feel our connection is spiritual. I see your joy in seeing me. I wave a little flirtatious wave and you raise your eye brows. You say something to the hostess and point in my direction. She stay and the podium and you walk towards me.

I wave again.

"Hey you." You say. You lean over and softly kiss me on the cheek before you take the seat across form me. "How are you?" You are subtly different.

"I'm fine." I take a deep breath and smooth the napkin on my lap then take a sip of water. "Nervous."

You don't ask me why I'm nervous which lets me know I do-indeed-have something to be nervous about. You nod.

"This is unusual." I say "Lunch during the work week."

"We should do it more often."

"you look so cute." I say. "You know what I was thinking? I was thinking if I were one of your students I'd be so madly in love with you. If you were my professor."

"Well, if you were one of my students I'm afraid I would break all the rules and have a passionate affair with you."

I laugh. "Seriously."

You blush a little and shake your head slightly. "You always surprise me, Annie."

"I ordered wine." I said and pointed to the bottle of Chradoany. "I can't drink though."

"Can't drink? Why not?"

"I mean I can. I —i'm so nervous. I'm afraid you're leaving me again."

The silence that follows causes me to freeze emotionally. I feel like I will hyperventilate. Even though it's awkward I fumble in my bag and retrieve my sunglasses and put them on.

"Why did you do that Annie?" You ask me.

"I think I'm going to probably cry."

"you can look at me."

"it's sunny out here."

"Ok." You say.

"Are you leaving me again?"

"I don't want to leave you Annie."

I recognize that's different from saying I"m not leaving you. I look up at you "ok but...?"

"But..." you whisper..."I'm not laving you Annie. Not the way you're thinking."

"Oh. Are you back with Leora Hall?"

You shake your head, keep your eyes on me.

"Annie, she was —that affair. I regret it. That was my version of a breakdown."

"I know." I whisper. "I know that."

"It was fucked up."

I nod. "Edward, I'm sorry I never talked about the night on the beach before. I was thinking about it—I have been since it all came out. I feel bad that I wouldn't deal with it."

"Annie, I don't know if I would have done any different if that had happened to me."

"But for you—It did happen to you too. And ... but...what I've been thinking is how fucked up my denial was too. I realized that in the 10 years we'd been together you tried so many times. So many times, Edward. I realized that by refusing to talk about that night I also didn't ever let you tell me about being abused was a kid. He abused you all those years too and the night on the beach. You saved my life. Of course but you also physically overtook your father. It wasn't fair to. you."

Your expression changes-for an instant you are that child I've seen in pictures.

The water laps the dock, the sound of masts clanging rises.

"I mean—well it was sort of like the denial you grew up with. I unconsciously created a home where we couldn't talk about it...I put it all on you to carry. I'm sorry."

You shake your head. "no you didn't, Annie."

"Do you need time? Is that what you want to tell me? The reason we're here?"

"yeah."

My heart stops. "Do you need to get out of our marriage."

"No. If I just went with my desire, my instinct I would say let's keep going and not take time apart."

"Apart." I whisper. I'm trying to let it sink in. I nod.

"But Annie, we kind of have to know if our bond is independent of that night."

"I think it is."

"I do too."

I don't want you to go Edward. I don't realize but I've been silent too log. I am willing you to change your mind.

"what are you thinking?"

I feel the tears and I"m glad for the sunglasses. I wipe my eyes with the napkin. "I don't' know." I say.

"I am thinking I'll get a place. Short term. For maybe a couple of months."

Every word stabs me Edward. First it was apart and now it's months.

I take a sip of water. I'm suddenly parched. "Are you sure you're not seeing Leora again?"

"Annie, you are the only person I've ever been in love with. You re the only women I've said I love you too. You are still the only person I'm in love with."

I bite my lip. "You're the only person I'veve ever been in love with."

"I know." You say.

The child in me wants to beg you or start crying but I don't. I know you need this.

"Maddy will be devastated." I say.

"What if he stayed with me half time."

There goes the sub again half time.

"What about your work?"

"I'm pretty sure I can get out at noon on Fridays after my committee meeting. Could have her Friday and bring her home Monday morning."

This is a gut punch. I'd miss her so much. I nod. My voice catches in my throat. It's so dry. "What about Alex?"

You eye me. "You think he'd be ok with me?"

This is even harder because my connection with him is so symbiotic but he's almost a year old and almost completely weaned from breast milk.

I smile and turn my head. I take off my glasses and put my hand over my eyes. I start to cry. I wipe the tears. "You can if you want to." I whisper without looking at you. Then I look at you. I see your sad expression both for hurting me and for the thought of leaving our home.

"I really don't want you to leave." I say. "I don't want you to go. I love you too much."

You're eyes fill "I'm sorry, Annie."

I take a deep breath. "Ok. If you wan to we can figure out Alex. I don't want him to—but I want you to connect with him."

"I am connected with him, Annie. I love Alex."

I start to cry and almost plead with you, "I really don't want you to go. I really don't."

"I know."

"I love you so much. I know we have this thing between us. But, I don't think that's why I love you. When we met—I mean at Georgetown—I always had such an intense dread of you leaving. Even that first day at Penny's—I tried to say things to keep talking—"
You smile. "you're sweet Annie." It's the same affection as always.

"Don't feel sorry for me."

"I don't.'

"You can take. Alex. We can figure it out." Now I start to really cry. I can hardly talk. "I' going to go. I'm sorry."

'Wait Annie. here. Stay for a minute."

"But I don't want a minute. I don't want just a minute. Whaat difference does a minute make?" I'm collecting my things. "I'm ok. I'm not mad at you. I'm not."

You stand and I see you are waiting to hug me or kiss me. I try to move past you but somehow you put your arms around me. I lean into you and cry. I smell the scent of you shirt and I keep my head against your shoulder. You are holding me, you kiss the top of my head.

I sniffle and look up at you. "this feels like the night with Karl Marx."

"The dog?" You ask.

I pull away. "you remember you kissed me the night Karl Marx died?"

You nod.

"Why did you?"

"I don't know." You shake your head. "I don't know, Annie." You wait a minute. "I don't think this is forever. Unless you decide you want it to be."
"I already told you I don't want to separate. I already told you I—"

"ok" you nod.