The Dark Sire Issue 3 (Spring 2020) | Page 44

caresses me for a minute. Nothing happens. Our eyes lock. I shrug. She looks away. “Never mind,” she says. I know I loved her, I mean, shit, I married her. I remember saying the vows. But that was before. It’s like a bad joke. Knock-knock? Who’s there? Don. Don who? See, you don’t remember me either. She twists her wedding ring round and round then says, “You don’t smile anymore.” “Sure, I do, look,” I curl my lips back. I’ve practiced in the bathroom when I brush my teeth. I like to see the toothpaste froth in my mouth. “I miss my husband,” she says. I thump my chest, “I’m right here.” She shakes her head, stands up, and walks away. 42