Port in a Storm Part 3: “Wesley?”
He closed his eyes, and she noticed the tension in his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept or shaved in days.
“What are you doing here?”
A quick expression of exasperation crossed his face, and he grabbed the pen and notepad off the ground next to him. He scribbled something quickly, and handed her the pad.
Does it matter? She read.
Port in a Storm Part 2: Home is the last place he wants to be. Everything still tidy and neat except for the box in his hands, the one that reminds him (as if he needs a reminder) that he did have one more thing to lose after all. He sets it down carefully; decides to play the messages he knows are waiting on his machine.
Port in a Storm Part 1: It felt almost like the last time. She’d grabbed a bag, bought her ticket, and left a short note on her bed. Only this time, the bag was weekend-light, the ticket round-trip, and the note said she’d be back soon.