They sit in the car side by side, neither one of them speaking. They’re not really sure what to say anymore. They know that they want to say something, anything, to fill the silence. Because the silence is saying all of the things that they don’t want to hear.
She looks across at him. Looks across at the man she loves. The one she knows better than anybody else. The one who knows her, both the good and the bad. The one who loves her for her imperfections.
She wants to reach across and take his hand. Tell him that she loves him. Make it all okay again. But pride and stubbornness hold her back. Anger too. Yes, there is plenty of that.
So she looks down at her lap instead. And another brick is added to the wall that is being built between them.
She looks down into her lap and sees the two of them together in fifty years. The car has changed and so have the people within it. But the silence is still there. It is not full of resentment anymore. Just resignation. They gave up on the idea of each other years ago.
The wall that they began working on so long ago is bigger than both of them now. They love each other still, she can see that. But they are too tired to care anymore. Too tired to try and understand each other. They stopped trying a while back. Back when the wall got so high that they just couldn’t see each other anymore.
She shakes her head, bringing herself back to the present. Feels the heaviness of the atmosphere. Of that wall that is beginning to form. She looks over at him again. Reaches out her hand and takes his. Tells him that she’s sorry. That she loves him. That she always will.
Watches as all of the bricks that they had begun to pile together collapse in a cloud of dust, allowing them to breathe again. Together.