After Thirty Years

"You didn't say goodbye."

"You were sleeping."

"Still. Do you have to go?"

"You know I do. The ships won't wait."

"But this was our day."

Marie turned and stepped onto the train. I watched the windows flash by. She was gone. She didn't even take the roses.

My communicator buzzed. I raised my arm and waved open the incoming call.

"It's not forever, just until my shift is over. I'll spend my day directing ships at the Intergalactic Traffic Control Tower and be home in a blink."

"That's too long to wait. What if I'm not there when you get home?"

"You will be."

"I know."

"You got supper?"

"Yeah, I'll have the microwave lasagna ready by the time you walk through the front portal. Just like our first date thirty years ago."

"Love you."

"Love you, too."

She hung up without saying goodbye. We should work on this.