He stared mindlessly at the pond as he spoke, afraid to look right, catch glimpse of my sad eyes, and break his steady cadence.
“When I get up from this bench, I’m not looking back,” he declared to himself and to me, with a certainty and confidence that added jolt to my looping stomach.
When he did depart, he did so swiftly and in the direction of my home. “I guess I’ll walk this way, then,” I jokingly called out to him.
He turned around, gave a hearty laugh, and continued on. I wondered if this would be it.