Richard

I pull into my driveway a little after nine and look up at the house. She won’t be asleep yet, and I’m in no better condition to deal with her than I was four hours ago when work ended. But I can’t put it off anymore. We need to talk.

I see a small light on in the kitchen that I know is probably the one over the stove, but the rest of the house is dark, and part of me hopes she actually is in bed, because I don’t want to do this.

Jumping down out of my truck, I slam the door and walk to the house. Slipping the key into the deadbolt, I twist it and open the door, stepping into the dark living room. There’s no light streaming in from anywhere, and I don’t hear her music playing. I know my standing her up didn’t…