Missing You

She’d imagined it numerous times. At one end of the scale, his wife would overhear them having sex in the dressing room, would slam doors, scream and shout about betrayal, perhaps even throw divorce papers at his chest. Sometimes she thought it would be less dramatic. He would come over one day, suitcases in hand, asking for a place to stay. She’d say, “You always have a place with me.” And that would be it.