## Sitting Three Seats Away
The following evening, I found him in the hotel lounge.
I had learned his room was one floor below ours, though I still didn’t know how long he had lived as “Caleb.”
I sat at the far end of the bar wearing glasses and a light jacket.
Grant was alone.
Sienna had apparently left after another argument.
Eventually, he looked toward me.
“You look like someone having a better night than I am.”
The absurdity almost made me laugh.
The husband I had mourned was making casual conversation because he didn’t recognize his own wife.
Time had changed me too.
My hair was shorter. I had lost weight. The woman Grant remembered had been nervous, exhausted, and always apologizing.
She no longer existed.
“Maybe I simply learned not to let disappointing people ruin good evenings,” I replied.
Grant smiled tiredly.
“That sounds like experience talking.”
“It is.”
He lifted his glass.
“Relationships are complicated.”
I looked straight at him.
“Only when people refuse to tell the truth.”
Something shifted across his face.
I continued.
“Sometimes people convince themselves that running away is easier than facing what they have done.”
His smile disappeared.
“Have we met?”
I stood.
“Maybe I only remind you of someone you left behind.”
For several seconds, he stared at me.
Then recognition began spreading across his face.
I walked away before he could say my name.
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