Good Husband – Epilogue – Coffee Going Cold

Six months later, I was sitting alone with a cup of coffee going cold.

My phone lit up.

Sean.

I looked at the name for a long moment.

Then I turned it face down.

Not out of anger. That surprised me too.

I let it sit there, screen down, while Milo shifted at my feet and the apartment held its usual quiet – the ugly lamp, the crooked stack of books, a life nobody had arranged for me.

Whether I called him back was mine to decide. 

Today, tomorrow, never.

Nobody was waiting on the other side of that decision to be disappointed or relieved by it.

I picked up my coffee.

Still warm.

I drank it before it got cold.