Solve for X

Puddles meant it had rained recently. Not a lot, but enough to keep oases in otherwise dry parkinglots and driveways. She was glaring out, her expression paralleling the picaresque gloom of a midwinter scene: naked branches, browning snow, and a sky four shades lighter than the pavement in this town.
It wasn't necessarily that she was feeling down, but rather that she was profoundly confused. I'm not supposed to be staring out this window she thought. And it was the naturalism of her incredulity that eventually brought her blue.
Her husband appeared at the doorway heading towards the room in which she stood. His silence and distance explicitly expressed that today was not a new day. It was not a bright shiny morning. It would not be different. He reluctantly accepted the necessary paces (regretting his reluctance because they had only married months ago) to come within an adequate distance. An appropriate distance. An obligatory close. Close enough to put his hands on her shoulders. Close enough for her to ignore his false affection. And she felt his distance, his closeness, a breath away enough to transition from his bitten lip and triangled brow to a stoic calm and pout if she were to turn around.
"I saw what you tried to hide."
She whimpers in response.
"I--...I can't tell you how marvelously disappointed I am...but I can't tell you that anything's going to get better."
He squeezed her shoulders gently to try and instill what little comfort he had to offer. And though he was aware of her awareness of his falsity, it was an all too subtle attempt to save face for his sincerity.
"I'm not supposed to be staring out this window," no longer to herself, alone.
He took some time to understand how he wanted to say this, but did not think to say anything else.
"I know"
...
"but I do still love you. You must realize I--"

Mary considered herself a mathematician when she first realized her gift.
"I can't believe it. She's-- It's incredible."
"Mary: what is three hundred twenty four thousand two hundred and nineteen divided by four hundred fifty six point two?"
"Is this going to be on our test this week?"
"No, Mary; this one is just for you. I have a calculator here, so--"
"--seven hundred ten point six nine four eight seven oh six...seven. I think."
...
"Incredible."

*to be continued*