His running shoes lapped along the terra-cotta tiles of the courtyard. His footsteps stopped, paused at the step. Kate knew he was there and she waited, a towel in one hand from Sofia’s bathing. Then he knocked, the exact same knock he always used; he was blindingly consistent with his knocks. Kate pictured them living together in a house in Maine or Cape Cod and each day when Will came home, he’d use the knock, and her heart would leap just as it did now. Kate opened the door as if it was a question, the way it works in Spanish with the question mark at the front of the sentence. Why the pause? She tilted her head to one side and saw only the tanned face of the man who wanted to help her, the man who saw her, really saw who she was. He looked exactly the same; everything was going to be fine. He smiled his gorgeous toothy smile, a product of North American precision with dentistry, and stepped into the room bearing fresh palm-sized tortillas and cheese wrapped in paper. She opened her arms to him, folding him in through her skin.
What do You think about The Center Of The World (2015)?
