He stood there like a pillar of peace and I wondered what might happen next: he would close the door behind him, a little bit relieved and genuinely content with himself and his life. He would give himself a glance in the mirror and return to his pace, his energy, his needs, his love for me while he, the outsider, would smile at his chaotic wife, always late, always in a hurry, often two steps behind and sometimes right on time.
I closed the door of the taxi and took in my husband through the blinded windows. Did he know I was watching him? I’m sure he guessed. He knows his wife and her inability to say goodbye. Still, he didn’t see me wave. He watched the morning go by, maybe thinking of the most immediate future as he would turn around and step into our home but without me rushing through it, frantic to be on time. He would take a deep breath and smile and while he would feel my absence he would also enjoy the peace. And then he would gently expand into every corner of every room and enjoy every minute of it. All that space to himself. While I was watching the rain in a foreign country, wishing he were there sitting next to me…
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