Domestic Services
She was Emily.
The person I could sit beside in silence for hours without feeling uncomfortable.
One evening, we were sitting outside.
Emily looked at me and said,
“You know, when I’m with you, I never feel like I have to pretend to be someone else.”
I smiled.
“And when I’m with you, for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like someone is waiting for me to die.”
She did not laugh.
Instead, she placed her hand over mine.
I immediately pulled my hand away.
“Emily…”
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“I’m much older than you.”
“I know.”
“People will talk.”
She smiled.
“People talked before too.”
I told her I never wanted her to feel that she owed me anything.