The silence screamed what we were afraid to.

“Do you think we should-”
“I want to tell you-”
“What?”
“What?”

Beat-beat. Tick-tock.

“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”

He hesitated.
I shifted.

“What are we doing here?” he asked softly, at last, voicing the thought in both of our heads.
“I don’t know anymore,” I confessed.

Outside, the sun was sinking into its nightly slumber.

“Does it matter?” I asked. Please let it matter. Please, let’s save this.
“No,” he said finally. “It doesn’t matter.”

We sat. Misery loves company.