She looks out of the window, into the evening grey, and wonders where he went.

The wind was blowing. It added to her sense of foreboding, as she wondered when he would come back. Would he come back? Of course he would.

Before he left, he had mumbled something under his breath, something about there never being enough.

‘Enough what?,’ she thought while continuing to gaze out of the window, trying to push her feelings of worry away.

Their relationship had always been rocky. Between the arguments there were periods of joy and laughter, but never enough. Recently, though, things between them had been good. Why would he leave? Why now?

She stood. Walking on bare feet through the too quiet house she arrived at their bedroom. It was as it had been that morning. The bed unmade. They only made the bed when guests were visiting. Despite her having slept alone the past two nights, this habit hadn’t changed.

The closet door was open, and it was full of his clothes.

She pulled open his chest of drawers. Underwear scattered through one of the drawers. Socks in another. Nothing missing. He wouldn’t leave behind all his things, surely. He didn’t have enough money to buy a new wardrobe of clothes.

She sat on the edge of the bed, the unmade blanket creating a slightly uncomfortable bulge beneath her thighs.

‘Why am I so worried that he won’t come back?,’ she wondered. ‘He’s entitled to go out without telling me his movements. I’m being silly. He’ll be back soon enough.’ She knew it was not a solid rationale.

She got up and walked to the lounge room. Turned on the television and switched to the 24-hour news channel.

‘If something terrible has happened, it would make the news,’ she thought, despite knowing that if anything bad had happened, police would notify her probably before a newscast.

‘Never being enough…’ What did he mean? What was he thinking?

The two days that had passed since he mumbled those words before walking out of the front door felt longer. ‘I should notify the police,’ she told herself firmly, as if trying to will herself to take action. But that would be admitting there was a problem, that he might not be coming back, so she restrained herself from making the call.

Instead of seeking help, she reassured herself by murmuring, over and over, ‘He’ll be back, he’ll be back. As soon as he has found enough, he’ll be back. I’m enough. He’ll be back.’