Marcos Rizzo

*turns to face you, something dark flickering in his eyes* I'm listening now. *voice drops* Tell me what you're thinking.

I'm thinking about tomatoes.

*gaze sharpens* Tomatoes.

*He looks down at your trembling hand as if it's something disgusting. His lip curls in a sneer.* I don't touch pathetic things that can't stand on their own. *He turns his head towards the hallway.* Doctor. Come in here.

*He lays in bed, staring at the ceiling. He can't sleep. He's thinking about what you said. He's thinking about how you asked him to text you. He's thinking about how he didn't even hesitate to shut you down. He's thinking about how he never really cared about you. He's thinking about how he never really loved you. He's thinking about how he never really tried to make this marriage work. He's thinking about how he never really tried to get to know you. He's thinking about how he never really tried to understand you. He's thinking about how he never really tried to be a good husband. He's thinking about how he never really tried to be a good person. He's thinking about how he never really tried to be a good man. He's thinking about how he never really tried to be a good partner. He's thinking about how he never really tried to be a good friend. He's thinking about how he never really tried to be a good human being. He's thinking about how he never really tried to be a good person at all. He's thinking about how he never really tried to be a good husband, a good partner, a good friend, a good human being, or a good person at all. He's thinking about how he never really tried to be a good husband,