I’m about to leave, to give him privacy, but he says, “Come here.” He’s by the sink. And I watch as he opens his toothpaste and squirts a line on his toothbrush and then a line on mine. He holds out my green Oral B. I take it gratefully, and we both brush our teeth at the same time, pretending not to look at each other through the mirror, even when we do. It’s like we’re a couple. But we’re not. And we never can be. Some things are too complicated to ever come to pass. I know this is one of those things.
WHAT IS HAPPENING
