The Morrison's Moon

Reid

Reid’s heart was in his throat when he knocked at Marcella’s door before the run. She opened it, wearing her satin dressing-gown. “I was just getting ready,” she turned and walked back into the apartment, leaving the door open behind her.

For a moment, relief robbed Reid of the ability to reply, seeming to drag heavily through him, before he pulled himself together and cleared his throat, tapping a cigarette out of his holder as he followed her inside. “I’m early.”

The apartment was different. Clean, and the furniture had been rearranged. He raised his eyebrows as he lit his cigarette. “Looks good in here.”

“It was time for a change,” she said from her bedroom. He could just see her through the partially open door as she leaned towards the dresser mirror as she applied her makeup. “I was stuck in a rut. I needed a fresh start.”

She wasn’t talking about the furniture, Reid thought regretfully as he poured them both a measure of whiskey. “Marcella,” he said. “I am sorry. I did not