Since Matt had been home they had maneuvered neutrally around each other, being careful not to fight, but not quite making up either. The memory of the morning's sexual embarrassment hung in the air like an unspoken chastisement. It was like many nights they had spent after arguments, except that now Jane was trying to look at the situation objectively. Once or twice, she had even wondered what it would be like if she left Matt. She looked over at him. He was tall, nearly six feet, with a lithe muscular body and a rugged handsome face topped with thick sandy-colored hair. His eyes were deep blue, blue as the ocean, and there was a gentleness in his expression that she had loved from the minute she first saw him in the hall at Redwood High School. He was a transfer student from back east and they had started dating in their junior year. Both knew almost immediately that their early alliance would result in marriage.

Now as they pushed away the dirty dishes from their dinner, Jane wondered if it was all worth it.

"Anything new at work, Matt?" Jane inquired from where she sat at one end of the sofa. Her firmly rounded hips were encased in tight jeans and her bare feet propped up on the coffee table as she sipped a glass of white wine.

"Nah… same old stuff," Matt grunted mechanically from where he sat at the other end of the sofa, engrossed in the TV guide, "Looks like there's a good movie on tonight, "The Enforcer" with' Humphrey Bogart… okay with you if we watch that?'.'

"Sure Matt," she said without enthusiasm. She gave up trying to talk to him while the movie was still flashing on the screen, and propped a pillow behind her head, taking a deep draught of the ice cold wine. She was used to Matt's penchant for old movies, and ordinarily she wouldn't have given it a thought, but today she found herself wondering… Why doesn't he talk to me? What is he, a zombie coming home every night to the television set?