who: @henrisolivier
where: rosie's diner
when: mr. wexley's birthday party
she'd found most people gravitated towards the atrium or the bar. they didn't care for all the plates that had been set out in precise order at rosie's. she liked the organization that had gone into it. she too had made sure that she did her hair and make-up, using colors that hadn't been seen since the island closed down.
was it a hallmark of the couple that they'd been, or perhaps still the one the residents all thought they were that she'd taken the time. that she'd wear the dress he'd selected and allow him to fasten the pearl necklace around her neck for such an occasion. look even now, she'd said happy birthday with polite conversation and hadn't even once glanced across the room at sada.
still, she finds the conversations that she might want to have with her husband stilted in her mind. her throat closes around asking anything of meaningful substance in public or the like. instead, the silence stretches before she says: "how long do you think the macaroons took?"
