Her face is strange now.
You think you've memorized her sadness by the look in her eyes, but she surprises you with a hint of happiness that shows up at the corner of her mouth.
Was that a smile?
You try to figure out so you continue talking, words racing against each other so as not to give her room to respond.
She bites her lower lip and that dimple appears on her left cheek, a little hollow that says she wants to talk now.
So you stop, leave your story hanging.
Then she does that tilt of her head, to the right. So you press on, "What do you think?"
And even before you finished your question, you have forgotten whether you meant the sudden litany of complains you told her about your wife,or "What do you think, what do you think about now, us talking and sitting together, alone at the end of the day, three hours past after work, going around a conversation that compresses weeks, months, and 3 years of being apart into one night."
She says, "Where to now?" and stands up.
You hold hands.
She stays standing.
She makes you decide.