We go on Saturday, after lunch, and he’s got a long list of things he needs, but when we get there, his heart isn’t in it. He wanders the store aimlessly, looking at things but not really seeing them.
I nudge his shoulder. “Maybe you’ll have better luck if you check your list?”
He sighs and pulls it out from his pocket. We walk to the kitchen department and check what’s for sale. But he just stands there, gaze glued to the list, ignoring the goods on display. His mouth is downturned, his shoulders slump, and even his hair seems listless and depressed.
I grab his free hand, lacing our fingers together. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”
He shrugs and lays his head on my shoulder, shoving the list into his pocket with a deep sigh. “This is real, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“This thing between yo
