Denial - Christa Fairfield

Ellen watched him from across the room. His eyes blank and focused on the screen centered on the wall between their chairs. She had dangled her legs over the stuffed chair’s arm so she could watch him. She’d perched a book on her legs but hadn’t read a single word. His breath was even.

“When do you leave for your trip?” she asked leaning the book down to have a full view of his response.

His focus didn’t move from the screen full of ice and fisherman. “What?” he asked back.

“When do you leave for your trip, I said.” She closed the book with an intentional force hoping it would gain his attention.

“Six,” he said.

“Great,” she responded. She twisted herself off the chair. Picked up her phone from the kitchen counter behind them.

I’m done here, she thought. “I can’t deny my feelings. I won’t.” She texted. “Come by at 7am. He will be gone.”