Man In The Kitchen (Part IV)

The young man studied the woman he knew would someday be his wife. They hadn’t been dating terribly long, but something had told him from the first time he saw her at the library that she was the one. And he’d never believed in that crap. After the first coffee date turned into a five hour discussion of their deep, shared love of freshly sharpened pencils on paper, documentary films, college radio and antique typewriters he couldn’t get enough of her.

They grew close quickly, he travelled with her to the city where she had grown up; the house in the Hamptons her parents built. It caused him physical pain to see her like this, pale, eyes rimmed with red, lower lip constantly trembling.

“Babe, can you please tell me what’s going on?” he asked one last time at the airport as she got ready to board a plane that would take her back East. He held her carry on while she ducked into the restroom; bought her a coffee and book of Sudoku puzzles. Anything to keep them connected.

“You would never understand.”

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