8th

He turned around and affirmed his gaze long enough to make it clear he knew what he was getting into.

"Hey," he said as if it were the last thing he would say in a sentence.
"Hi," came a hesitant, but swift reply.
"It's been long, hasn't it?" he continued, with every word sounding as if it were to bring about the conclusion of the conversation.
"Yes. We've come far."
"Eight years - whatever that is in miles, it must be far, right?"
A polite nod ensued.
"I've been telling you everything, haven't I?" he paused for less than what would ask for a reply, and continued, "sometimes with words, other times with silence."
He stopped at what wasn't a question, but it implored to be replied to.
"Silence. Yes. But that's not telling me everything, then, is it?"
"I'll be honest-"
"-oh you are."
He took another deep stare, one that depicted the color of his eyes.
"You make me - nevermind." He shook himself midway, but continued. "I'll be honest, there were crazy times. It's not like I didn't want to tell you. But the days just kept passing me by. And I thought-"
"Thought I'd understand, right?"
He stood there, desperate to jump in and nod his head and release an affirmation in a mixture of relief and joy. But he stood there. With no giveaway.

But he was known well enough to have been read.

"I did. I understood. And I understand."

His gaze turned into a sigh of relief - a shimmer of joy and hesitation and grief and a song of longing for acceptance - as his tear ducts began to loosen up. But he was well known to hold them sealed as well.

But he must have left the duct tape home. Because a tear was almost shaping up to race forth.

"Happy birthday, dear."

He wiped it off before it even got a chance.

She didn't.

"Where's my gift?" she spoke as he turned her tears into laughter.

"Oh it'll be here any minute," he said with his lips inching into a smile. He raised his arm in a jolt to pull down the sleeve of his coat, and glanced into his watch.

"It'll be right here."