She Misses Him

3pm.
Her watch tells her she only has two more hours at the office. Thoughts about the dinner menu come to mind, what she could make for him this evening...maybe pasta, he likes pasta. And there is still a red wine somewhere in the house...on a post-it she makes a list of the few ingredients she will need, so she can stop at the corner market on her way home.

3:41pm.
He texts her, saying that he will have to spend the night in the city so he can make it to work on time the following day. Ok, she responds, good luck and hope it all goes well.
She crumples up the list of ingredients and thinks to herself that the pasta dinner she can save for another day.
She steers her thoughts away from dissapointment and reminds herself to be grateful that they both have work.

5:28pm.
It is drizzling outside and she pulls her cardigan closer, taking out an umbrella. She waves good-bye to the security guard and stops at the market on the way home anyway, picking out a microwave dinner. She ate the last one the night before.
As she opens the front door he texts her again, telling her that he got an offer for a weeklong tour and plans to take it.
Hey, great, she responds, is there anything I can do to help you get ready?
No, he says, I will come by tomorrow in the afternoon and repack a bag for the week.
She won't see him at all before he goes, as she will still be at work when he comes home. The tv stays on the local news channel and she warms up her dinner, consoling herself with a glass of wine. The rest of it she will store and save for the pasta dinner...sometime after the tour.

8:07pm.
She brushes her teeth and settles in for an evening watching the new episodes. She texts him goodnight.
I am out eating with a friend, he responds. I have had two shots already.
Ah, enjoy, she tells him...she cannot remember the last time they went out for drinks.
I am heading home soon, I will call when I am in bed.
Ok, she tells him.

12:19am.
The phone is by her pillow and she dozes, waiting for his call. She turns the tv off and reaches across the bed, imagining touching his back and the feeling of his arms around her, his breath on her bangs. But he isn't there. And he won't be, not for a while.
I miss you already, she texts him.

He never writes back. And he never calls to say goodnight, or that he misses her too.