He was visiting for just a few days, but to her it seemed more like months. The minutes seemed to inch by when she was sitting in the same room as him, ticking audibly on every clock. They seemed to make eye contact more than necessary, always meeting each other’s gazes and then quickly averting their eyes to another, more innocuous location. They seemed to constantly run into each other, their bodies bumbling around after the contact, not sure where to move next, where it might be safe to finally rest. There wasn’t a thrilling kind of tension in these run-ins, either, like some kind of romantic comedy where the two leads seem utterly mismatched yet end up oddly perfect for one another.

He seemed to take liberties that she would never take in another’s house, like adjusting the thermostat or suggesting that the lawn needed mowed. What was wrong with people who adjusted thermostats? It seemed to be the ultimate power move, designed to show dominance, similar to beating one’s chest or the baring of teeth.