Bobbie unbuttoned her coat, draped it over a chair. Underneath: a simple black dress, no sequins, no desperation.
And for the first time in years, Mark talked. Not about the divorce. Not about the loneliness. About a three-masted schooner he’d spent six months on, only to lose a mast to a dropped pair of tweezers.
A high-end hotel suite, midnight. Rain streaks the window, muffling the city noise. TonightsGirlfriend.23.12.22.Bobbie.Lavender.XXX...
Mark thought. Then: “I used to build ship models. Tiny ones. Rigging, sails, the whole thing. After the divorce, I threw them all out.”
Mark exhaled. “My ex-wife said I stopped being fun three years before she left.” Bobbie unbuttoned her coat, draped it over a chair
Bobbie sat on the edge of the bed, patted the space beside her. “Okay. Tonight, you’re going to tell me about the ships. Every detail. And I’m going to listen like I’ve never heard anything more interesting.”
He didn’t know if she meant the ship or him. Maybe both. Not about the divorce
“Is it that obvious?”