Jack.
"Can we talk now?'' his voice is low. The room is dark and we are both sprawled on our king-sized bed. My arms are wrapped around his waist because I don't want to let him go anytime soon.
His breathing is soft as he pulls me closer to him.
"Yeah,'' I tell him because, after our fight, we didn't talk about what lead to it in the first place.
I have to use my words, tell him how I feel about everything. I have had these expectations in my mind for so long that he would be able to tell how I was feeling without me even saying anything and we might be in sync most of the time, but he is not a mind reader.
"I thought you didn't want to quit the job. It seemed like it meant a lot to you,'' he says and I can hear the confusion in his voice. It would have been so easy to just let that fight go because he never asked me what I was thinking. He just assumed and he acted out on it.
