More beer cans, more pizza boxes. The place was a sty. Completely unsanitary, and Sage found herself reevaluating her own lifestyle. ‘Auntie Sage?’ A small voice cracked the silence that had become an envelope. The blonde turned to find her oldest nephew standing at the entrance of the kitchen. His footie pajamas were stretched taut over his growing body, to the point where the collar of his shirt was rubbing the skin raw. She remembered when she had bought him those pajamas, when he was 5 going on 6. It looked as if he had long since grown out of them. Sage’s heart melted, as she crouched down to one knee and opened her arms. ‘Hey buddy. What are you doing up?’ the boy entered her embrace and allowed her to hug him tightly. Poor kid, she told herself as she subtly rocked him back and forth. ‘I heard you come in with mom. Is she okay?’ He pulled out of her arms to look her in the face. The moonlight, despite being in the other room, reflected off of him perfectly. Sage saw herself. It was always good between them, it had been that way since the beginning, when they had finally consummated their long distance love affair in his tiny flat in London, and it had been that way forever, as they met ‘Same-Time-Next-Year’-like again and again, unable to resist the magnetic pull between them. Once a year, or once every other, she would fly across the Atlantic to be swept into his arms for a few days of passion that neither of them ever wanted to end. Sometimes it was disrupted on her end, sometimes on his. It was no different than any other affair, the usual heart-rending anchors at home, a husband who loved her enough but not quite, children who needed a mother. There were hundreds, probably hundreds of thousands like it, happening all the time, every day, year after year. She knew he had girlfriends, both short and long-term, but it wasn’t enough to keep them apart, and yet there was somehow never anything to completely catapult them together, either. They stayed.
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