There was a note scotch-taped above his bed, "be right back. " Her note to him that morning, the bed still unmade. I could not imagine what it would feel like to be the one who wrote that note, to have slept with this man in his bed all night, to have woken up with him right there, still sleeping and to go out, knowing that I could come right back.
I was always there when he was gone, he trusted me to wait for him. Then he'd come home and it would be me in that bed, but no note. No coming back.