“Lillian! We’re going to be late!”
“Okay, honey oat. I’ll be right down.”
Honey oat. He frowned at his reflection in the mirror that she insisted upon placing in their foyer. How long had it been since she’d called him that?
He unglazed his eyes and actually processed the face that was staring back at him. Pepper and salt hair, a few wrinkles across his brow and accentuating his features. Sure, he was a little greyer than he had been 25 years ago, but he quite thought he had aged nicely. Like fine wine or cheese. He liked to think he appeared sophisticated. He didn’t have the potbelly, for example, and he’d kept all his hair…
Honey oat. Seven… Eight years since she’d called him that? God. Hannah would still have been in High school. He scratched his chin. He hadn’t really lost it, had he? Were things between him and Lillian worse off than he’d thought? Their marriage wasn’t perfect, but–who’s was? He thought they were pretty happy. He was… Had she been all this time?
She rushed down the stairs and kisses him on the cheek, which made him smile.
She grasped his shoulders and squared them towards her, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulders and straightening his tie.
He took this minute to admire her willowy body framed in a gown and her immaculate hair in an obedient up-do at the moment.
He brushed a stray hair and tucked it behind her ear.
“I love you, Lilli bear.”
They rush away.