He leaves early in the morning. There is a little light. Splashing in the soul. He doesn't dress in the bedroom at all. I pretend to be asleep. He doesn't come to me. Not returned. Do not trample in indecision on the threshold. Doesn't look at me sleeping.

The door just closes behind him. Click. Probably, this is how they leave unloved wives or casual lovers for one night. Or prostitutes. For some reason I'm offended. His chest tightens so that it's hard to breathe.

How, how can you be like this? After deep tenderness and caring (he washed me with his own hands in the shower, and then squeezed...