Phantom

September 18, 1944

He came back. Ronaldo came back.

He was bruised and hurt when he did. Cuts marred his beautiful face. Bruises discolored his skin. I was so excited to see him, I threw myself at him. Only then did I notice the grunt of pain. I nearly cried when I saw his pain.

He wouldn’t tell me what happened. But I think the distance got to both of us.

Because we . . .

I lay with another man. A man who is not my husband.

And I’m finding it very hard to regret it. There’s shame. I feel that. But not regret.

In fact, all I want is to do it again.