Reminiscence

She set Phedre down and took the fall, letting the artificial blue-tinted glare of her phone screen push back against the more natural, amber light that her lamp washed over the room. No message from Dale. Sighing, Sarah began tabbing through her background apps until she reached her emails and began flicking through the backlog of unattended personal messages in a folder tucked away. She felt guilty shying away her family like she did after Dale popped the question, but there was nothing she could do for them and she held the creeping suspicion that the feeling was mutual at this point. The emails from her sister stopped a few years ago. Then the steady stream of those from her father also dried up. Now, it was only a strained, **** ‘Checking in’ subject header from her mother that appeared in manic, twice-a-day patterns once a month or so. Dale always wondered why they never just tried texting or calling, and she tried her best not to let slip how she’d tastefully neglected to notify them when she changed her phone number.

Now, the holidays were populated with visits to in-laws and the occasional distant cousin who needed a place to stay along their holiday travel itinerary. She uncrossed her legs and made her way to the stairs that led down into their shared bedroom. The loft itself was obscured only by a set of curtains that Dale had put up. It was not uncommon early in their relationship that he would ask her to undress behind the curtains and produce each article of stripped clothing piece by piece before emerging naked from behind it for a day of passionate lovemaking. A small sigh escaped her as she remembered those glorious few post marriage years spent reading all day and fucking all night. Dale was never cartoonishly good nor was he cartoonishly bad, in fact the sex was usually, simply just above average. He knew how to hit the right spots and he knew how to do it well and that was more than she could ask for in a partner.