When they were ready to head for Blue Sky, Sara made the perfunctory offer to drive. He gave the requisite decline and suggested she get some sleep. So she sat beside him in the cab, pretending she was sleeping, letting him pretend he didn’t know she wasn’t. The distance she erected with her silence lengthened with every mile they traveled. She couldn’t bring herself to talk about what had happened last night. She couldn’t let herself tell him what she was feeling, just as he couldn’t bring himself to ask. The days that followed at Blue Sky were more of the same. Something that should have drawn them closer together had fallen like a wedge and was driving them further apart. On the surface, everything appeared fine. They worked together. Sometimes they even laughed together. They engaged in polite generalities and mundane conversation with Lana and Tag. But they never talked about the things that mattered. Not the past. Not the future. Not the lack of sharing that got in the way of the present.
