He watched her leave. He watched her become steadily smaller and smaller towards the horizon. The sky outside had turned a deep orange as Matt stepped out behind her. The floorboards of the boardwalk creaked in the quiet.
He lowered his lids, his eyes dull and glowering. Then he turned and silently went back inside, the hum of the tanks welcoming his return. They resumed their rhythmic droning, undisturbed, like the ocean’s mechanical twin.
The aquarium would always need tending.
She must have been barely visible by now. He started sweeping. Barely a point in the distance by now. He pictured her shrinking as he reached for the dust pan. The plastic was worn at the edges, its corners rounded and scratched up from years of use.
By now, she must have vanished into the glare of the late afternoon sun.
“A lot of what you’ve told me has sounded…troubled,” he recalled as Wend followed him step for step. She snorted.
”Yeah, I guess."
"You’re smart, Wend. You don’t need me to stand here and tell you over and over again that your way of shying away from things doesn’t help anyone."
"Okay.” Wend stiffened at the last comment.
”Including yourself."
"I know.”
Matt paused another second. “Including me.”
Wend stood up straight then. She re-looped her bag strap over her shoulder and turned from Matt abruptly as though she had been stung. She stood there a moment, facing away while taking a breath. “You know what? I’m out.”
Alone now, Matt emptied the dust pan into the trash can with a few solid thuds. The aquarium closed at five. He’d be home by six.