"I don't get it."


"The play: I don't get it."

"She was leaving him."

"Wait, what? How do you know that? She never said—"

"It was obvious. There were a million little signs, things she said, things she did. The suitcase in the open front closet had a spotlight on it."

"It did? How do you notice shit like that?"

"I just do."

There was a long silence as they walked through the rain. "Babe?"


"If you're ever unhappy, and you're planning to leave me, just tell me. Because I'm never gonna figure it out on my own."