Stephen undid the first two buttons of his shirt and slid down slightly in his armchair. He adjusted his glasses, lit his pipe, and waited. She would be here soon. After a few minutes of checking out the window he got up and stretched. She was taking her time this morning. No matter. Stephen sprayed on a little more cologne, rubbed it in, and straightened out his hair. She will like him this way, he thought. A few more minutes and then she arrived. She ascended to the train platform drawing glances from nearly all the passerby. Her hair fell with ease, bouncing lightly on her slender, graceful shoulders. A slight, sweet smile played on her lips while she crossed her legs and looked out over the tracks. She sat on her platform bench and waited for the train. She gets here around 8:51 typically. Stephen wondered how she could look this stunning in the morning. All the trouble each day she made to come visit him… he was blushing. He took a few puffs on from his pipe while she sat and made herself busy looking at the train schedule.

He wanted to call to her, but he knew she didn’t want to talk this morning, she was occupied. He knows how she leaves him alone when he’s busy.

“That’s what’s so great about our relationship” whispered Stephen to himself, we know when to give each other space. He didn’t want to give her any space today of all days when her dress was so short and inviting. The curves of her back and her sweet fair skin begged him to act. Her voluptuous painted lips breathed new life into him. He felt alive with this woman by his side.

“Oh, no you don’t missy!” Stephen chuckled aloud,

“You know, I’m more than twice your age sweetheart!” Stephen kept laughing at the idea, he wiped away tears while he looked and smiled. He rested his head on his hand and wondered, ‘what did it matter anyway?’ To hell with the rules, that’s what he’s always thought.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He asked her.
…

“You’re right, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Stephen left it at that for the day. She got on the trainand he kissed his window goodbye.

Then there were a few moments of silence. Silence in the apartment. Silence in Stephen’s head.

He wiped the cologne off his neck and buttoned up his shirt.

He stood motionless, eyes closed. The only sound in his small apartment came from the ticking of the plastic clock hanging above the microwave. Everything was still. Stephen licked his lips and turned towards his bureau. He made his way over slowly, dragging his shaking fingers on the countertop as he shuffled by. Stephen eventually rested his elbow on the bureau and looked out his window.

He reached out his free hand and returned the picture on the bureau to its upright position. He breathed heavily on the shirt cloth near his wrist and then used it to wipe off the photograph. Stephen sighed and knit his brows, he scowled and turned away from the Bureau.

“How could you even ask that?!” He begged.

“You’re really losin’ it I tell you. I work my whole life and now when I have some time to spend just the two of us you… you accuse me like this!” Stephen stopped, exasperated.

He wiped his brow and parted his lips in aggravation. Stephen turned toward the photo and gazed into the cold eyes of his ex-wife.

“Who is… who is who?” He asked quickly.

Walking quickly away from the picture and putting one hand on his hip he turned back to face the bureau. He liked this position better. He used his other hand to point at her smug, judgmental face.

He began with an authoritative tone, “I’ve told you she’s no one. For god sake, Louise she’s… she’s a damn intern. I work with her, what do you want me to do quit? I tell you… that’s the problem you’ve got. You always nag, you always want to know, you always suspect the worst.”

Stephen paused and cocked his head as though listening.

“Oh, my problems, really!? That’s great. You wanna know my biggest problem?” Stephen stopped. Then he exhaled slowly and shakily. He realized he was clenching his fists and relaxed. He couldn’t keep going. He didn’t want to hurt her like this. Tears began to wet Stephen’s shirt and he shuffled over to the front of the Bureau. He picked up the picture frame and stared deeply into the photo. He studied her face, traced his gaze around her beautiful bright cheeks and pointed chin. For minutes he just stood looking, hands shaking, lips quivering, eyes watering with love and regret.

“I’m sorry Louise,” he croaked out, “I didn’t mean all those things.”

Stephen took up the picture frame. He held it to his wet wrinkled lips, then set it back down on the bureau.
“I just want to be happy, you know?”

The next morning Stephen slouched into his armchair. He adjusted his shirt and crossed his legs. 8:50. Not there yet. He got up and approached his bureau. Louise had a new look to her today, Stephen thought. Yes, he had to lean his face close to hers to confirm. She wore the warm expression of acceptance. Stephen kissed his hand and pressed it to her.

“You’ve always wanted the best for me,” he remarked to the photograph.

He looked up and adjusted his hair in a mirror. He pushed up his glasses and fluffed his collar. He sat down once again and waited for his sweetheart. He waited all day, looking out at the steps. She would not be there for Stephen today. She had already taken her train.