Who Are You?

She’d only seen his whole face in old photos. So when he greeted her on a random Tuesday
afternoon, clean-shaven, two decades into marriage, and his naked mouth said, “Surprise!” she
replied, “Who are you?” For days, she couldn’t look. When they kissed, she fought unwelcome
visions of their teenage son’s friends. Sleeping late Saturday morning, he kissed his way down
her body, as usual, and she had to fantasize his beard not to feel unfaithful. When she rolled him
over and felt the soft curl of fur tickle her nose, she could finally exhale. There you are, she