Roman stood outside the hotel. It was always a different one each time.
The rules were simple: her’s and his. He would disconnect. For her: no phone, no contact. For him: A distant place. Clare would be put on hold for the next two hours; he would try to push her exquisite face into a delicate lockbox in his mind.
“Altmore Hotel. Four o’clock.” It was all Ms. Feldman ever said.
She’d be gone for weeks, and Roman lived his life. Then she’d call. He wondered why he came.
A breath. Resentfully, he goes to her.
Prompt from VelvetVerbosity’s 100 word challenge: “disconnect”