“You know what I mean,” she says.
I consider it for a moment. I know what she means. She means normal circumstances. She means if she was just a girl and I was just a boy and we had maybe just seen each other across a coffee shop. She means if we weren’t such fucked up people with skewed views of love and commitment and marriage.
“Honestly?” I say.
“Of course,” she says.
I hold my breath for a moment. “I think we could have been great,” I say.
She presses her lips together, tilts her head a bit, and nods. In agreement or acknowledgment, I don’t know. We are both quiet after that. We settle into eating the way we have so many times before and for a little while I let myself pretend we are normal. I let myself pretend there is no lie and no truth to keep or tell. I sit and eat and for these minutes, we are a real couple. I smile at her and she smiles back.
That’s what I’ll do tonight. Pretend we are something we’re not. Pretend we are everything I’ve been running from.