it was sudden and unexpected [as these things usually are]

n looked up from the morning paper and over-sweetened chai, whispered something gently
b turned from the stove and flipped off the fan. i'm sorry--i missed what you said?
i...ahem. we. we should talk, n said
stopped cold. those words are rarely crafted to prompt a 'happy' discussion. b forced a nod and moved to an empty chair at the table, dry throated and unable to start
more confidently this time, n repeated, we should talk.
yea?
yea. you're not happy...
i'm scared.
i know--and you're not happy
but i could be?
you won't be. you weren't yesterday, you're not today. it breaks me to watch as you close yourself off from everyone we know, then come home so happy night after night after going... wherever it is that you go
you know where i go. i just need space. sometimes, people need to escape. it's nothing personal, n..
but that's something i'll never be able to give you. you'll be forever escaping from me. and i'm not sure how to handle being second best.
i'm with you.
no. you're comfortable with me. you know i'll still be there when the night has twisted your words and claimed your thoughts. and that's great--but it's all i am.
that's not entirely fair. you're not stuck here, you know?
i..know.
silence. one looked to the other, waiting.
well?
well what? you seem to have come to your conclusion in a rather direct stream of consciousness. now, there's only one question left.
and what's that?
where does this leave us?
after shifting around in the dark wood chair, n's eyes dropped to the floor. i should go.
you should go?
yes. or you should go. somewhere with someone else. or no one. whatever will let you be happy. without the escapes
no. you're asking me to leave you?
i'm asking you to be fair.
love's not fair.
i want to be your escape. i want you to be able to be as happy here as you are out there. with them. tears began tracing the left cheek.

she stood, resisted the urge to kiss him one last time, and pressed her hand against the frame of the kitchen door. she heard him reach for the phone--he was calling r.
b started as she reached for the door handle, you know--i've always been jealous of your love for them--especially r. you loved her the most, even in friendship. she was the escape you wouldn't let me be. and i don't know that i can do this again.
he looked up, letting the phone drift from his ear. i don't either.

it didn't take long to notice the sharp knot in her stomach, the feeling she was drowning as her lungs pulled tight, her vision blur through tears and the world around her swirl, the weight of all her limbs as she forced her legs to move. slowly. one after another. and struggled against some unseen current to press out of the kitchen, down the steps of their old wooden porch to turn left, heading toward the horizon.

she never turned back. they never met again. she would never forget--