My wife made me realize I'm a lesbian
The old couch was comfortable, like seeing a long-time friend after days or weeks of loneliness. Its lumpy and warped cushions were shaped by memories which wrapped around Max like a warm blanket. She flipped another page of her vintage copy of Popular Photography.
It was one of her favorite ways to relax after a day of work. She sipped her honey lavender tea and studied the photo of a family posing like they were on a hike. Trees rose around them. A fuzzy patchwork of fields peeked between trees. Nothing was out of place, giving the scene a sense of being both staged and spontaneous.
“Hey,” Adam said, his deep rumble echoing in the room. “Can we talk? I got something to share with you.”
The couch shifted as Adam seated himself nearby. Close enough to touch but not touching. Max eyed the gap between their knees. It was emblematic, but of what?
“Sure,” Max said and looked up. The tea was tasteless as she watched her husband. He studied his hands, which twitched on his lap. “What is it?”
Instead of answering, Adam rubbed the base of a thumb. Max closed her magazine and set it on the table behind her along with her tea. The couch arm dug into her back as she twisted around.
“We’ve been married for 5 years,” Adam whispered. Max leaned in to hear.
“And dated for 5 years before that,” Max added during a long pause.
Adam nodded, his short blond hair bouncing in disarray. “10 years,” he said wistfully. “Some of the best years of my life and I can’t wait for another ten with you!”
His voice was off. He rarely whispered and the fact he kept his face tilted away from her meant she couldn’t study his eyes or expressions.
“We’ve done so much together… shared so much,” he continued. “There’s always been a… uh… a part of me out of touch… de-synced with life.”
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