Flash Fic Feb, Day 2
Day 2, written on Day 3
Prompt: "I sit beside the fire and think/of people long ago/and people that will see a world/that I will never know."
He looked across the table from the empty chair. To the place his wife had sat for the last seven years. To the place where someone else would be coming home.
He hadn't slept after their conversation last night. He didn't know how to feel. He was pretty sure that was normal. His wife didn't know how she felt, either, for the last seven years, and who knows how long before that.
Would his wife still be his wife when they came home? What would they be instead? A husband? Did he have a husband now? He wasn't sure he was ready for that. His spouse? He said it a few times, out loud, in the empty room, to see how it tasted. He could fit the word out of his mouth, at least. Well, another conversation he and they would have to have, he supposed.
Unless they didn't want to be his spouse anymore, either. Or unless he didn't want to be theirs. Then they'd never have to talk about it again.
He married a woman because he loved her. He wondered if she'd married him because it was the next thing to do. If she'd believed she was who she'd shown him to be. Or if it was another way of masking, of fitting in, of trying to get along while she figured out she wasn't "she" at all. That must have been hard for them.
