“I’ve been alone a long time,” he said, counting the years since Joanna had … left him. “More years than I care to remember.” Turning away.
She thought about it. “You must be lonely.”
His head snapping back toward her. “What makes you say that? Do I look–“
“No, no, no, I’m sorry,” she said. “I just know that when I’m alone for anything more than a couple days, I get lonely.” Dropping her head to avoid his stare. “My therapist always tells me I’m projecting, but I can’t seem to stop.” Shaking her head. “I didn’t mean–“
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay. It’s just that–“
“I know, I know,” she said. Stealing a glance at him, his tears. “I get it.”
She doesn’t get it, he thought. And she never will.