The question sat in the air between the three of them. Petricia looked at the street for a long moment before she answered.
'Holy shit... I didn't know that she would ask a question that was FUCKING straightforward...' Mike thought. 'Either she's innocent or clueless... or even worse... an airhead or a dumbass.'
"I think I love who he was," she said. "Or who I thought he was, or who he was when we were still trying to become things."
She pressed her lips together. "I don't know if love is the right word for what I feel about the person who has been in that office for the last five years, the one who comes home smelling like the casino and says everything is fine."
"What's the right word?" Mike said.
"Tired," she said simply. "And maybe... responsible."
"Attached in the way you get attached to something that's been part of your life for a long time, even when it's stopped being what it was." She looked at him. "Is that terrible?"
"No," Mike said. "It's honest."
