He kisses me in between putting on his socks, soft little flutters against my morning breath mouth. I don't want him to leave but I don't say it. After he reloops his belt, he holds me, asking about my plans for the day, about seeing me again. I sigh and say, "I don't really believe you." He groans but doesn't correct me, reaching for his boots and then his jacket. "See you soon," he says before closing my door. Usually, he says, "Text me." Usually, he'll look me in the eye. But that's gone. It's never much fun being right.
Rachel A.G. Gilman is the Creator/EIC of The Rational Creature and a columnist for No Contact Mag who works in publishing in New York. Website: rachelaggilman.com Twitter & Instagram: @rachelaggilman