A F F E C T I O N

t w e n t y - f i v e

You hold my hand at the movie theatre, and Annabel catches my eye. She's working the ticket booth and a pang resonates through my gut.

Your eyes flick to the next booth, and you veer over to him. You purchase our tickets, and your hand feels heavier and heavier in mine.

We sit at the back, something we used to do all the time. I don't remember half the movies we saw in the last year.

You lean over and capture my lips with yours. My fingers rake through your soft, curling hair. You used to keep it short.

Everything feels different now.