When I got out of the shower Jill had almost finished packing her things, which was amazing considering the fact that I hadn’t noticed her get started. If only she wasn’t such an efficient and dynamic person I might’ve noticed she was leaving me. If she didn’t fold socks with such mechanical precision I might’ve perceived my world falling to pieces.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, hoping the combination of innocence and stupidity in my voice might inoculate my heart—and hers—against the obvious fact of the matter
“What does it look like?” she said.
I gave her my best dumb puppy face. It’s a face that’s gotten me out of untold jams. It’s a face that I make so often and so naturally you know it can’t possibly be fake. But she wasn’t having it. Not anymore. She wasn’t having any of this. I didn’t blame her. I knew that…
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