Here’s the Monologue:

“There,” she says, isn’t there? That quiet little nod when we mentioned autumn. It’s been…well, not that long, really. Five years since the papers said ‘divorced,’ though sometimes feels more like five decades. This cardigan, anyway – soft wool, obviously chose it ourselves, didn’t we? A bit too cozy perhaps, for a Tuesday evening. Not quite brave enough to admit things were slipping away then, was it?

We haven't spoken properly about the children in months, not truly. Just the dutiful Christmas cards, the obligatory birthday presents wrapped with a slight reluctance. Like this one, doesn’t it? The way you’re standing here, a little hesitant, aren’t we? Like you weren’t entirely sure we’d actually agreed to be here tonight. Not bad, not terrible. We always had good taste.

Your hair’s longer than we remember. And those eyes…still hold that flicker of amusement even after all these years. Like you knew exactly what was coming, back then. Before the arguments started, before the silences became so thick you could cut them with a fork. This glass sits cool in your hand, hasn'ing been touched in ages – Merlot, probably. Your favorite.

It’s funny, isn’t it? How easy it used to be to simply sit opposite each other. Now it's almost an event. A reluctant admission that maybe, just maybe, we still need each other. Maybe he wasn’t such a dreadful husband afterall.”

Now over to you – what did you think?! Do you agree with our interpretation of her mood? Let us know! ✨️

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