Speaker 1: I pulled up to my parents' townhouse just as dusk
Speaker 1: settled in the lights from the kitchen, casting a yellow
Speaker 1: patch on to their neatly swept front step. My hounds
Speaker 1: were cold carrying the baggery box, fingers pressing into the
Speaker 1: cardboard until I could smell the faint, sugary glazed leaking through.
Speaker 1: Sophia always said lemon tart was her non negotiable comfort,
Speaker 1: and I'd made sure to pick out the flakest one.
Speaker 1: I was stupidly early, some sort of left of a
Speaker 1: habit from being the kind of person who texts parking
Speaker 1: now when en still blocks away. My heart still always
Speaker 1: kind of does a weird little dance of anticipation before
Speaker 1: these family dinners, like I'm nineteen again, nervous at her
Speaker 1: meeting my parents for the first time. Sophia's studio was
Speaker 1: only a fifteen minute drive from here, if I'm being honest,
Speaker 1: I'd left work early, mostly so we could walk in together.
Speaker 1: Our little tradition should always slide her hand into mine
Speaker 1: right as we hit the porch. I'd even texted her
Speaker 1: outside fresh heart rescue me for mom's ethan do you
Speaker 1: eat enough? Speech? The response was before I finished composing
Speaker 1: a reply to a works luck pain caught at the
Speaker 1: studio last minute, Private Client, go ahead without me, save
Speaker 1: me a forkful. Maybe it was the exclamation pointed at
Speaker 1: made of feel forced, Or maybe it was how these
Speaker 1: days the emergencies seemed to multiply on Wednesday nights. Like clockwork,
Speaker 1: still ethumed back. No worries, they'll be thrilled your crushing it,
Speaker 1: so I tried to believe it. Inside the kitchen smelled
Speaker 1: like basil and simmered garlic. My mother kissed my cheek,
Speaker 1: dusting floor on my sports jacket. Dad made a big
Speaker 1: shaw sniffing out the dessert box. Look who's early, he teased,
Speaker 1: eyeing the clock with the smirk he usually reserved for
Speaker 1: board games. My mom eyed the second mug in my hand,
Speaker 1: trying not to appear disappointed. She's running late again, Private Client,
Speaker 1: I said, shopper than I meant. Expansion keeps so busy.
Speaker 1: I busied myself slicing bread, keeping my eyes down as
Speaker 1: we moved around the little kitchen island. The choreography and
Speaker 1: changed from when I was a kid. Of My parents
Speaker 1: kept up a gentle stream of questions, mostly about work,
Speaker 1: my boss, my last bike, ride along the path by
Speaker 1: the lake. It felt good at first, the bustle smoothing
Speaker 1: over whatever it had been creeping under my skin. But
Speaker 1: every time my mom glanced at the kitchen window on
Speaker 1: my dad's stories trailed off with an opening for Sophia's
Speaker 1: follow up joke, the air grew a bit thinner between us. Finally,
Speaker 1: as we sat to eat plit steaming, my mother put
Speaker 1: her hand over mine. Ethan, she never misses owl as
Speaker 1: ONNYA nights. Everything all right with Sophia. I almost laughed.
Speaker 1: It was such an on the nose, concerned parent thing,
Speaker 1: but her voice was soft enough that I felt the
Speaker 1: tension in my shoulders give a little. Yeah, she just
Speaker 1: loves this new challenge, I said, lifting my glass of
Speaker 1: water as if to toe Sophia's ambition. She's working like crazy.
Speaker 1: It'll calm down once the expansion is under control. They nodded,
Speaker 1: smiling along, but I could feel them listening too closely
Speaker 1: to my answers, as though tuning an old radiophostatic. There
Speaker 1: was a fragile pride in my voice, but for the
Speaker 1: first time I realized how often I had started defending
Speaker 1: Sophia's absences rather than just acknowledging them. Afterwards, as I
Speaker 1: drove home alone, the bakery box on the passenger seat
Speaker 1: spilling tart crumbs everywhere, I felt the evening settle heavily
Speaker 1: in my chest. The apartment was quiet when I let
Speaker 1: myself in, her shoes by the door, her jim bag
Speaker 1: open on the bench, a half finished combat sweating on
Speaker 1: the kitchen table. I texted her hope the session went
Speaker 1: w We'll see you soon. No answer. I wandered into
Speaker 1: the bedroom to change in for the first real time
Speaker 1: in years. The bed felt too wide. There was no
Speaker 1: trace of perfume in the air, no Sofia humming along
Speaker 1: to her playlists in the bathroom, And though I couldn't
Speaker 1: have named any proof, there was a feeling I almost
Speaker 1: want to call it preempt of nostalgio, the kind that
Speaker 1: makes you reach back for something in the dark, that
Speaker 1: something delicate was shifting between us, and I didn't understand
Speaker 1: why some knights had drift off, tracing the cracks in
Speaker 1: our bedroom ceiling with my eyes, mapping them by memory.
Speaker 1: But even in the silence, it wasn't fear that kept
Speaker 1: me awake, just a sort of unsettled anticipation. The same
Speaker 1: as listening for a footstep you're not entirely sure you
Speaker 1: want to hear. I'd always been skeptical when Franz claimed
Speaker 1: to just note when something was off. I used to
Speaker 1: want evidence large, a capattern or reason. Sophia and I
Speaker 1: want the kind of couple who gave each other reasons
Speaker 1: to doubt. We were adventurous, restless, yes, but as wild
Speaker 1: as we could be together. We'd met at a rooftop
Speaker 1: party thrown by a mutual friend, one of those humid
Speaker 1: late May evenings. The sky line sticky in the distance
Speaker 1: by I'm playing covers of songs I pretended to know.
Speaker 1: She loped over with a half finished margarita and shoulder
Speaker 1: danced her way into my group, electric from the very
Speaker 1: first joke. Our first date was breakfast for dinner. She
Speaker 1: insisted on wearing running shoes with her dress because we
Speaker 1: might want to walk somewhere new. We spent hours hopping
Speaker 1: between speakeasas and toco joints, trading at to cure facts
Speaker 1: and arguing over which decade had better movies. By the
Speaker 1: third date, we were running a ten k in the
Speaker 1: rain for charity. Her idea of romance was both of
Speaker 1: us sprinting through puddles, our playlists set to shuffle. She
Speaker 1: painted streaks of cold blue gatoray across my cheek at
Speaker 1: the finished line, crining so hard to jaw ached. The
Speaker 1: courtship phase was a rush of late night road trips,
Speaker 1: accidental miss flights, climbing up hills to watch dawn together,
Speaker 1: even if it meant sleeping in the car. We argued
Speaker 1: sometimes over the proper time to brew coffee, who got
Speaker 1: to djay for longer in the car, who was more
Speaker 1: competitive at board games, But our arguments were brisk, playful,
Speaker 1: never cruel. When we married, the ceremony felt accidental, like
Speaker 1: some ongoing party had just swelled round us, until we
Speaker 1: were at the center, laughing and promising things we already
Speaker 1: lived every day, both our families together. There Sophia's big
Speaker 1: lad Montana krowd in my comparatively quiet cidofolk, dancing to
Speaker 1: a playlist we curated for weeks. You could see us
Speaker 1: in the center, passing plates, making everyone laugh, Sophie's wild
Speaker 1: curls like a flag, and me utterly undone by her.
Speaker 1: Six years passed in a blur, her finishing her certification
Speaker 1: as a fitness instructor, me working my way up at
Speaker 1: the marketing firm. Study save sufficiently challenging adventure was our oxygen.
Speaker 1: We do things like drive four hours just for a
Speaker 1: new Roman place, organized library game nights, hit two music festivals,
Speaker 1: back to bat because we didn't want to miss any
Speaker 1: epp bands. Family meant a lot, dinners with my parents
Speaker 1: almost every other week, phone calls to Sophie's big sister
Speaker 1: on Sundays, trips up state to see her wild extended
Speaker 1: khan a few times a year. Even as things picked up,
Speaker 1: Sophie poured herself into opening her boutique studio, which was
Speaker 1: now driving, and even thinking of a second location. I
Speaker 1: told myself our conch schedules were just the growing pains
Speaker 1: of success. This yer, sure, and sometimes she'd come home
Speaker 1: distracted or exhausted, but that was progress, right. Our partnership
Speaker 1: worked as long as we both remembered that the other
Speaker 1: was our anchor. Or at least that's what I thought.
Speaker 1: It probably started with the calendar. There was always a
Speaker 1: Google calendar floating in the back ard, a mutual agreement
Speaker 1: for who handled what dinner with the Walters, Sophia's early
Speaker 1: morning boot camps, my later work meetings Trivin nights, but
Speaker 1: lately Sophia had begun to move her class slots at
Speaker 1: the studio, especially in the evenings. She'd counsel a beginner
Speaker 1: Pilitz class last minute says she needed to meet a
Speaker 1: new private client or handle emergency equipment maintenance. At first,
Speaker 1: I told myself anyone running a business had to be adaptable.
Speaker 1: But when I tried to plant things dinners, even a
Speaker 1: simple Sunday Hecko schedule seemed to shift vaporously, as if
Speaker 1: nothing was quite pin downable. Twice in a month she
Speaker 1: missed dinners at my parents. Her apologies were always detailed
Speaker 1: enough to be plausible, full of logistical flourishes, deady, cold
Speaker 1: and sick and the sound system is down. I can't
Speaker 1: leave new clients alone. People accounting on us to be flexible.
Speaker 1: She'd text that she felt awful, promised to make it
Speaker 1: up to me, and once when I called her to
Speaker 1: say good night, she sounded genuinely tired. But it wasn't
Speaker 1: just her absence that nudshet me at the table. When
Speaker 1: she did calm, she'd spend half the meal gloo to
Speaker 1: her phone, only glancing up to Nodo memrcent when my
Speaker 1: mom finished a story of her rose bushes, or my
Speaker 1: dad made a joke about traffic. The eyes that used
Speaker 1: to light up at his stories were fixed elsewhere. Thumb
Speaker 1: scrolling under the table. Home wasn't much better. I tried
Speaker 1: to nestle on the couch, hoping she'd want to talk
Speaker 1: through her day, a ritual that had uncoeda since we
Speaker 1: first moved in together. He used to be she'd spread
Speaker 1: her feet across my lap, head on my shoulder, letting
Speaker 1: her guard down. Now she'd get through a quick round
Speaker 1: of small talk before leaping up to answer just a
Speaker 1: few more emails, swearing that new classes, new vendors meant
Speaker 1: new headaches. Maybe it was true. She looked in her
Speaker 1: her eyes holding dark crescents, always bleary and blinking away fatigue.
Speaker 1: If I asked about it, she'd snap back quickly to
Speaker 1: her warm self. Sometimes she squeezed my shoulder in apology. Sorry,
Speaker 1: bade is just a short window. Opening a second location
Speaker 1: is like spinning a dozen plates, and sometimes they all crash.
Speaker 1: I told myself, this is what ambition looks like. But
Speaker 1: it was getting harder to ignore how every answer seemed
Speaker 1: to nudge me away from really seeing what she was
Speaker 1: feeling more doing. One night, as she closed her laptop
Speaker 1: and finally settled against me, I managed to joke he
Speaker 1: was starting to run this place like the sea, with
Speaker 1: all these secrets. She laughed, but her laugh sounded rehearse,
Speaker 1: and she didn't meet my eyes before she leaned in
Speaker 1: to kiss me. There was an undertone. I couldn't put
Speaker 1: my finger on, something like warning or deflection. I started
Speaker 1: noticing other things, small, perhaps dismissible alone, but together they
Speaker 1: made space for our knees to grow. Nate, a mutual
Speaker 1: friend who'd always been the life of any group brunch,
Speaker 1: caught me one Sunday as I waited in line for
Speaker 1: the Baffimer corner table. You know, I thought I saw
Speaker 1: Sophia A tavin't sixteen last Thursday night. Had to do
Speaker 1: a double take. Figure can't be as ethan and Sophia's
Speaker 1: was on are night right. He grinned oulbowed my side
Speaker 1: as a free shared to punch. Aline a brush off
Speaker 1: smile practiced since college was all I could manage. She
Speaker 1: was stuck late at the studio again. Expansion stress. I
Speaker 1: remember how easily the lie came, how I'd already built
Speaker 1: the cover in my head. Nit nodded, not really listening,
Speaker 1: and started talking about his new girlfriend. I ducked into
Speaker 1: the rest room, washed my hands, and stared at my
Speaker 1: reflection for a minute longer than necessary. That same week,
Speaker 1: intimacy oddly fluctuated at home. Sophia, who used to tease
Speaker 1: me that she could read my body like a road map,
Speaker 1: began pleading exhaustion most knights, carefully folding herself to the
Speaker 1: far side of the dead headphones on, then out of
Speaker 1: nowhere should be unusually affectionate hansy ungree kisses, pressing herself
Speaker 1: against me in a way that felt almost urgent. Once
Speaker 1: after we made love, she curled up with her back
Speaker 1: to my chest and I helped her, but she stared
Speaker 1: at her fun screen, the eerie blue glow flickering over
Speaker 1: her features. I didn't know if I was supposed to
Speaker 1: feel desired or kept it be. It wasn't hard to
Speaker 1: believe the story about stress and physical fatigue, not with
Speaker 1: the ambitious gin she was running. But sometimes a tendon
Speaker 1: has felt like an apology for distance. She wouldn't explain
Speaker 1: a smoothing over perform months was that unfair? I hated
Speaker 1: how quickly I begun to doubt even the things I'd
Speaker 1: always trusted. A bigger surprise came the following Friday, when
Speaker 1: she texted me, day, babe, can you pay rent this
Speaker 1: month directly? Studio's check incoming, but held a promise I'll
Speaker 1: transfer my half soon. She almost always handled our household bills,
Speaker 1: meta utilities, her the rent, her request relic of her
Speaker 1: insistence on financial sovereignty between equals. Of course, agreed, immediately,
Speaker 1: replying with a joke about our landlord's taste in scary
Speaker 1: inspirational posters. But when I checked our joint bank's statement,
Speaker 1: I noticed some unusually lodge atm with rollsmore than would
Speaker 1: cover minus studio purchases. The note said business lunches, but
Speaker 1: one was eight forty five p m. On a night
Speaker 1: she said she'd been holding casses. I sat with my
Speaker 1: laptop open, curse he, blinking over the imans, trying to
Speaker 1: picture what I planned to lunch happened to judge bar
Speaker 1: two towns over well after dark. I kept myself from asking,
Speaker 1: reminded myself I didn't want to be that guy, the
Speaker 1: accountant husband. I was determined to be supportive, even if
Speaker 1: I felt some liner quietly moved overnight. The next week,
Speaker 1: I started a new experiment, half design and half defense.
Speaker 1: I'd swing by the studio on my way home just
Speaker 1: to say hi, framing it as wanting to walk so
Speaker 1: over for home so we could decompress together. First couple
Speaker 1: times it worked, she beamed, introduced me to a couple
Speaker 1: sweaty regulars, then waved me into her tiny office while
Speaker 1: she closed out receipts. But the fourth time, on a Thursday,
Speaker 1: she promised to be out late for her strategy session
Speaker 1: with her staff. I arrived to find the parking lot empty,
Speaker 1: every light inside off, the front door was locked. I
Speaker 1: called her, and after a long pause, she picked up.
Speaker 1: What's up? I mumbled something about picking up takeout, don't
Speaker 1: wait up last minute spot change where a jewel's house.
Speaker 1: Now every one bailed except her. We were eating left
Speaker 1: of Risen, planning for next quarter. I'll be home late,
Speaker 1: Love you. I stood on the sidewalk for a minute,
Speaker 1: feeling foolish, then drove off with the window down, trying
Speaker 1: to blow the anxiety away. Later, when I mentioned the
Speaker 1: empty studio, Sofia got defensive. Do you want every client's
Speaker 1: home address and attendant sheet? Meetings? Move? Around. These are
Speaker 1: minimal clients who bail, and you know how flaky people are.
Speaker 1: She smiled, she said it, but her eyes didn't warm.
Speaker 1: Please don't make a big deal. I don't, but something
Speaker 1: in me folded away. That Sunday, my mother pulled me
Speaker 1: aside while Sofia was in the restroom, her tone quiet
Speaker 1: but urgent. I know the studio is a lot, but
Speaker 1: I feel like Sophi's pulling away. She hardly talks at dinner,
Speaker 1: never asks about our book club order, sister's house search.
Speaker 1: I started to defend my wife on instinct, rattling off
Speaker 1: updates about the business. How Grove meant tunnel vision. But
Speaker 1: maybe there was a shadow in my own voice, the
Speaker 1: hint that I could see what she meant. Later, Sophia
Speaker 1: rejoined us for a smile, bright but Brisle's glass. A
Speaker 1: subtle but steady change arrived in our social life too. Sophia,
Speaker 1: who loved orchestrate and game nights or Inm Palm two dinners,
Speaker 1: suddenly spent her rare free evenings up with the business partners,
Speaker 1: a rotating cast whose names blurred together, Clara to Sean
Speaker 1: endlessly reference never met. When I'd asked to tag a
Speaker 1: long mile like carrying about shop talk Ye know I do,
Speaker 1: She'd wave me off. No, he'd be bored so inside
Speaker 1: bisbol you'd want to stick a fork in your eye. Then,
Speaker 1: at a party to rowim by Val, an old mutual friend,
Speaker 1: I noticed Sophia crossed the room by the bar, deep
Speaker 1: in conversation with a tall, athletic eye in an expensive Henley.
Speaker 1: I made my way over, ready to say hi, but
Speaker 1: when I reached them, she tense, then flourish a hand Ethan,
Speaker 1: this is Alicus, splier, super dull. Alec offered a firm,
Speaker 1: unreadable smile and a hand shake. His eyes darted past
Speaker 1: me to some one else. Sophia whisked him away before
Speaker 1: I could ask more. The next week, Sophia announced she
Speaker 1: had a last minute fitness conference out of town. Had
Speaker 1: first mentioned if it was within twelve hours of packing.
Speaker 1: She kept her suki small, all black leggings and sneakers
Speaker 1: at the top. I joe about joining her for a night,
Speaker 1: suggested with Mikya get away, but she called it impossibly
Speaker 1: regiment at business only early, late, all work, no fun.
Speaker 1: She left as I was making coffee, blowing me a
Speaker 1: kiss on her way out. The door so fast I
Speaker 1: barely had time to wave. She texted me for the
Speaker 1: first two days, updates about boring workshops, a joke about
Speaker 1: someone's yoke mad and folding like a parachute, then radio silence.
Speaker 1: When she finally returned two days later, she seemed recharged, chatty,
Speaker 1: teasing in the way I half remembered. For a while,
Speaker 1: I let myself believe things could recalibrate. Nights when she
Speaker 1: was gone, I lay flat on the bed, barely moving.
Speaker 1: I'm sure if I miss her, or missed the version
Speaker 1: of us I thought we still were. Was it insecure
Speaker 1: to wonder where her gaze drifted? Or was it a
Speaker 1: natural worry for some one whose world was contracting your
Speaker 1: round ambiguity? One morning, as she made coffee, standing in
Speaker 1: front of the espresso machine in my old hoody singing
Speaker 1: out of Tuna, asked as naturally as I could, Are
Speaker 1: you okay? You've been extra distant lately? She stopped midscoop,
Speaker 1: her her falling forward. It's not you. I'm just preoccupied.
Speaker 1: That'll pass. All this growth is exhausting. Ye, you're my sanctuary, Ethan.
Speaker 1: She laid her hand on my chest and smiled blunly.
Speaker 1: I kissed her palm, feeling both comforted and more insure
Speaker 1: than for for a week or two, I tried to
Speaker 1: change the dance. Instead of scanning over her messages or
Speaker 1: fretting over our schedules, I invited her out to run
Speaker 1: in dinner's plan a picnic, bought tickets to a drive
Speaker 1: in movie. Sometimes she agreed. Sometimes she'd smile regretfully and
Speaker 1: claimed to be overwhelmed. But that next slow didn't last.
Speaker 1: The Tuesday after her trip, she came home grinning, holding
Speaker 1: a new book she'd bought. Dwant on something about hacking
Speaker 1: your brain stress response, she pressed it into my hands.
Speaker 1: I want you to stop worrying, babe. Let's schedule something
Speaker 1: just for us next weekend. No phones allow. We need
Speaker 1: a reset. I'd never known whether this was a piece
Speaker 1: offering or a distraction, but I wanted to believe it.
Speaker 1: For a little while, things seemed better. We cook together,
Speaker 1: tried out new recipes, even did an early morning drag
Speaker 1: at her favorite park. Intimacy thought there were whole stretches
Speaker 1: of an evening where I believed, sincerely that we just
Speaker 1: hit a rough patch. One night, while folding laundry in
Speaker 1: the bedroom, I pulled a crumpled piece of receipt from
Speaker 1: the pocket the genes she'd worn on her conference. It
Speaker 1: was for a tasting menu at Marslina, one of the
Speaker 1: swankist restaurants in the next city, a place we used
Speaker 1: to splurge, it only for anniversaries out of habit. I
Speaker 1: checked it a It lined up exactly with her conference.
Speaker 1: I laid the paper flat and tried to convince myself
Speaker 1: this was standard, a procession dinner with business contacts, maybe
Speaker 1: even a team reward. But a pit formed in my gut.
Speaker 1: I smoothed the receipt again, noticing it was for two
Speaker 1: no company name, just the table number. When I brought
Speaker 1: it up, she brushed it off. We did a group
Speaker 1: dinner with everyone from the closing session. It was the
Speaker 1: last minute thing, and I crashed eurl and should have
Speaker 1: invited you, honestly, but you'd have hated how dry the
Speaker 1: speakers were. I silently accepted it, though the words felt
Speaker 1: like pins on my skin. Their knees, muted by a
Speaker 1: few quiet weeks, flared up again and became harder to swallow.
Speaker 1: I started reblaying recent events, hunting for consistencies. All the
Speaker 1: little misdetails, the spaces in which she grew quieter. That
Speaker 1: was when I got methodical, even though a part of
Speaker 1: me hated myself for it. I began to cross check details, receipts,
Speaker 1: story lines, a few public posts she made on his
Speaker 1: studio Instagram account. I took to glancing at her open
Speaker 1: laptop whenever she left it unattended at home, though the
Speaker 1: guilt of privacy invasion made my skin prickle even as
Speaker 1: I did it. Mostly I found nothing solid, Yet every
Speaker 1: lack of proof felt more suspicious somehow, as if the
Speaker 1: empty of the gaps the more worrying what they concealed.
Speaker 1: During this time, the mood at Homer simultaneous see Warmer intenser.
Speaker 1: It was like Sophi, since the doubt encountered it, with
Speaker 1: bursts so affectionate, a tenderness, a surprise, stay coat order,
Speaker 1: a favor of playlist on the Speaker's new run in
Speaker 1: shorts folded onto my gym bag. But the cycles repeated,
Speaker 1: moments of connection then retreat. Laughter. Than the hush of
Speaker 1: withheld stories, what tormented me most was the ambiguity, the
Speaker 1: knowledge that I had nothing but circumstantial oddities and half
Speaker 1: finished stories. If she was hiding something I couldn't name it.
Speaker 1: Maybe she was just overwhelmed. Maybe I was jealous for
Speaker 1: no reason, inventing intrigue in a relationship that, for all
Speaker 1: its quirks, simply reflected the chaos of two adults pursuing
Speaker 1: their dreams. Until one Saturday morning, when I woke earlier
Speaker 1: than usual, so fat on her run, the apartment filled
Speaker 1: with post Friday night clatter, she left her laptoe opened
Speaker 1: on the dining table and accident, probably given how careful
Speaker 1: she was lately. Normally the machine required a password after sleep,
Speaker 1: this time it had only dimmed. I hesitated, feeling a
Speaker 1: flush of shame, then brushed the track at a tab
Speaker 1: mark doc iive in her Gmail caught my eye. A
Speaker 1: handful of messages sat there, most hastily deleted or attended
Speaker 1: to be. One stood out, titled simply Marcelina the send
Speaker 1: Diardah are the same initials I had seen on her
Speaker 1: phone one late night as she typed and then abruptly
Speaker 1: closed her messages. I not tightened along my spine. The
Speaker 1: body of the email was playful, bantering the details of wine,
Speaker 1: talk of the next time, Anne Escape, Valzana, missing your
Speaker 1: laugh overport. I scrolled further, finding earl and messages lace
Speaker 1: with coded affection and references to your business trips, Anne
Speaker 1: how del breakfasts. Then a photo embedded further down Sophia
Speaker 1: and the man from Vaal's party, the one she called Alex,
Speaker 1: seated at the bar, heads tipped together, smiles lazy, the
Speaker 1: kind she only ever reserved for moments when she truly
Speaker 1: let down every guard. The background was dark and unfamiliar.
Speaker 1: The hands of the lad top each other on the table.
Speaker 1: My mind pinballed in every direction. This was it, wasn't it?
Speaker 1: Or was it just a friendship? Another quirky investor? Was
Speaker 1: I making patents? Whether or none? I closed the laptop,
Speaker 1: feeling sicker than I ever remembered. Back in the hollowed
Speaker 1: out quiet of our living room, I called Nate, the
Speaker 1: only person I could trust to be both loyal and unfalter.
Speaker 1: Did you see Sophia at tavern sixteen that night? For sure?
Speaker 1: I asked the question, trembling in my throat. He hesitated, man, Yeah,
Speaker 1: I mean she was with the guy, tall, kind of athletic.
Speaker 1: They look close, but I only saw them for a second.
Speaker 1: I probably shouldn't have mentioned it. Honestly, you've ever seen
Speaker 1: them together before? Long pause? Once maybe twice at a
Speaker 1: winebought different party. I figured it was just business stuff, dude, Look,
Speaker 1: don't jump to conclusions. SOF is crazy about you? Crazy?
Speaker 1: That was now seen almost bleakly comic. That evening. When
Speaker 1: she returned from her run, I tried gently to bring
Speaker 1: up the almost batal details her business partners, the schedule shifts,
Speaker 1: you're so cagy lately, babe. I made myself sound as
Speaker 1: casual as possible. Sophia's reply was asta cuttolus of complaints
Speaker 1: about reliable clients and moody landlords. She told me, if
Speaker 1: I'd just stop worrying, we'd both be happy. Her eyes
Speaker 1: glittered angrily. She was breafticking in that moment, vivid flushed
Speaker 1: from the run, hair wild, and so inreachable that I
Speaker 1: felt physically chilled in the same room. No matter how
Speaker 1: I asked, the answers stay vague, sometimes defensive, sometimes shifting blame.
Speaker 1: I'm trying to build something for us, ethant you aut
Speaker 1: like I'm hiding bodies if I don't tell you every text.
Speaker 1: In lunch and train ride, her irritation had teeth, but
Speaker 1: beneath it, I thought, I saw pleading, don't press, don't hunt,
Speaker 1: let me keep this little world safe. I retreated for
Speaker 1: the night, mind racing every theory I tried to build
Speaker 1: dissolving into another. Was it just business of high stakes
Speaker 1: investor who blowed boundaries? Or had something fundamental snapped? And
Speaker 1: all I could do was watch from the far side
Speaker 1: of the fracture. The next day, the story raveled just
Speaker 1: a fraction more. While scanning for paperwork to prep my
Speaker 1: part of our taxes, another annual ritual, I saw yet
Speaker 1: another business lunch listed on our share visa, again for
Speaker 1: a late night at a high end bar. We'd only
Speaker 1: garnet together for special occasions, the date falling squarely on
Speaker 1: her private meeting night. I called the number on the receipt,
Speaker 1: expecting a frosty receptionist. Instead, a chip of voice confirmed
Speaker 1: it was a reservation under Reverer. That name rang in
Speaker 1: my memory. Alec Rivera a R that evening, asked Flatley,
Speaker 1: as Elia can invest her poor more than that? The
Speaker 1: room went still. She set down her fork. She met
Speaker 1: my eyes open but shadowed. He's just helping with the expansion.
Speaker 1: It's complicated, but I handle it, you know, I'd tell
Speaker 1: you if there was anything inappropriate. Why are you being
Speaker 1: so weird about this lately? I could feel myself hardening.
Speaker 1: I just want to know what's happening with us. My
Speaker 1: voice was almost a whisper. She looked away, pulling her
Speaker 1: knees up to her chest. I've told you, I'm just
Speaker 1: under pressure, and you're making it worse. Later that night,
Speaker 1: as she showered, I paced the living room, retracing every conversation,
Speaker 1: every carefully worded half discussion, every accidental detail picked up
Speaker 1: in stray remarks. My mind moved from helplessness to anger
Speaker 1: and back again, tangled in a wet that felt increasingly knotted.
Speaker 1: For the next two days, the tension settled into the walls,
Speaker 1: a sullen silence punctuated by clip politeness as we passed
Speaker 1: like strangers. I started sleeping later, leaving earlier at work.
Speaker 1: I caught myself for reading all texts from Sophia, trying
Speaker 1: to find the point where familiarity shifted into secrets, the
Speaker 1: final straw, at least for that first phase. Kim, when
Speaker 1: in a moment of absurd hope, I picked up her
Speaker 1: phone to hand it to her while she was making
Speaker 1: tea in the kitchen. The screen bast a new message
Speaker 1: from Matar flash, only half a sentence visible. Miss Saturday
Speaker 1: already next time? Wish you of The phone locked as
Speaker 1: she reached for it, and she tucked it in her
Speaker 1: hoody pocket with a strain smile. My throat tightened. I
Speaker 1: counted the brats until I could muster any casual tone.
Speaker 1: You seem close at Alec. Should I be worried? Sophia's
Speaker 1: face twisted defense and panic, mingling, don't be ridiculous, Ethan.
Speaker 1: He's funding half of the new lease. Of course we talk.
Speaker 1: I told you it's all above board. This suspicion is exhausting.
Speaker 1: She stormed into her office, shutting the door behind her
Speaker 1: with a furnace that for a second made me wish
Speaker 1: I could just stop wanting to know. But I couldn't
Speaker 1: not any more. It was all inexorable as gravity. The
Speaker 1: lives collected quietly, but sooner or later, even the smallest
Speaker 1: one tips the balance, and I had to know which
Speaker 1: way we'd fall. That night, I couldn't sleep. Every fiber
Speaker 1: in my body ached with tension, like some internal alarm
Speaker 1: had been tripped, refusing to let me settle. At some
Speaker 1: point after midnight, I got up and paced the hallway,
Speaker 1: a circuit from the living room to the bedroom door,
Speaker 1: pausing and listening for any sound from Sofa's office. Only
Speaker 1: the hum of her laptop fan and the occasional muta
Speaker 1: tap of keys made it through the wood. I wanted
Speaker 1: to bargein and demand answers right then, but something in
Speaker 1: her tone, early wounded and indignant, kept me up by Instead,
Speaker 1: I sat on the sofa with my phone, scrolling through
Speaker 1: photos of us for months years before Sofi grinning at
Speaker 1: the finished line of our first half marathon, as at
Speaker 1: some ivy karaoke bar, arms slung around each other, sweaty
Speaker 1: and elated, I hollow and estagea pressed against my chest,
Speaker 1: but it did nothing to slow the circum questions. What
Speaker 1: was she actually doing in those late night meetings at
Speaker 1: the studio or with Alec Riverie or the supplier, the investor,
Speaker 1: the whatever he was. I don't know how long I
Speaker 1: sat there, locked into that loops white panalyzed image and
Speaker 1: chased my own tail. At some point I stood again, and,
Speaker 1: against my better judgment, walked over torchev val cabinet and
Speaker 1: began rifling through folders. I told myself I was looking
Speaker 1: for her rent bill, maybe a stray business contract, something innocent.
Speaker 1: What I was really doing, though, was looking for something
Speaker 1: she might have hidden. Nothing suspicious turned up, just least documents,
Speaker 1: old Evan fliers for the studio, a few forms from
Speaker 1: our old running club. For a second, the ordinariness of
Speaker 1: it all made me feel sheepish. Maybe this was all
Speaker 1: in my head. Maybe I was acting out the exact
Speaker 1: anxiety she accused me of, but I couldn't let it go.
Speaker 1: My mind was running split screen documentaries, one about our life,
Speaker 1: bright and full and noisy, the other a shadow play
Speaker 1: wherever smile on, every absence was covering for something I
Speaker 1: hadn't wanted to see. The next morning, after a nearly
Speaker 1: sleepless night, I made coffee and lingered in the kitchen
Speaker 1: while Sophie dressed for work. I watched her through the
Speaker 1: crack doors. She pulled on running tights, hair twisted up messily.
Speaker 1: She looked tired, but there was an energy in her
Speaker 1: movements of practice quickness, like she was perpetually late for something. Eventually,
Speaker 1: she appeared in the entryway, gin bag bouncing on her shoulder.
Speaker 1: I'm heading out early. Need to meet Cara. Forr inventory
Speaker 1: before the rush, Can you lock up? Her voice was
Speaker 1: all business, and before I could answer, she was at
Speaker 1: the door. I took effort to keep my tone light.
Speaker 1: You look nice, got a busy day, She paused, a
Speaker 1: brief flicker of softness in her eyes, always I'll see
Speaker 1: you tonight. Yeah, want to do dinner? You pick? She hesitated,
Speaker 1: then flashed a quick smile. I'll see how late things
Speaker 1: go OK, and she was gone. I stood there, mug
Speaker 1: and hann, feeling every bit like an extra in the
Speaker 1: story of my own marriage. By lunch, I texted her
Speaker 1: grab something together mid day. I can meet he wherever.
Speaker 1: Twenty minutes past before she replied, swamped raincheck three. With
Speaker 1: every small brush off, I felt my patience eroding, leaving
Speaker 1: exhaustion in its place. Work was a blur, a series
Speaker 1: of meetings and emails. I barely attended to my mind
Speaker 1: tune on the problem of Sophie's double life. All luck thereof.
Speaker 1: I wanted my suspicions to be wrong almost as much
Speaker 1: as I wanted proof that they weren't. Either would be
Speaker 1: a relief. Around three, nateex and me Randa meme something
Speaker 1: about motivational cats. I stared at the phone, thumb hover,
Speaker 1: then tight serious question. You ever actually talked to so
Speaker 1: VIA's business partner, Alec? What's his deal? A few seconds later,
Speaker 1: Not really, he seemed nice of VAL's just quiet. Why
Speaker 1: I hesitated, Dun wrote, She's been weird lately, always out
Speaker 1: with business partners, just wandered. Nate sent back, could be
Speaker 1: just work. Sophie is intense about her business. But if
Speaker 1: you want back up, I'll come lurking with you. Breathe man.
Speaker 1: I tried to laugh it off, but there was a comfort,
Speaker 1: at least in knowing someone else had met Alec and
Speaker 1: found nothing of ritly odd. That evening, Sophia texted she'd
Speaker 1: be late again. Last class ran over. Sorry babe, don't
Speaker 1: wait up. I fixed myself past her, ate in silence,
Speaker 1: and after dinner, decided to walk past the studio. It
Speaker 1: was after nine. Maybe i'd see her wrapping up, maybe
Speaker 1: she'd invite me in for once. When I got there,
Speaker 1: most of Main Street was empty. The studio's glass front,
Speaker 1: usually glowing with soft lights and cool down music, was dark.
Speaker 1: I peered through the window. No sign of Sophia, no
Speaker 1: bags or yoga mats, not even the faint scent of
Speaker 1: eucalypt as she liked pumping through the air. Though back
Speaker 1: Soon's sign hung on the door at the clock, hands
Speaker 1: set to an now before my phone buzzed. Sophia running
Speaker 1: to grab a bite with Alec and Clara after a
Speaker 1: tough class. Home in an hour or two. Want anything?
Speaker 1: The normalcy of the question read is almost arranged, I replied, no, enjoy,
Speaker 1: even as my chest tightened in frustration. If she was
Speaker 1: at dinner, why not invite me on my way home?
Speaker 1: I nearly texted her again, some harmless question, just to probe,
Speaker 1: but something it might get made me hold off. Instead.
Speaker 1: A circle of the block stopped at a pharmacy and
Speaker 1: picked up nothing in particular, stalling for time. When she
Speaker 1: returned hours later, I was awake, but pretending sleep. My
Speaker 1: back to her side of the bed. She didn't try
Speaker 1: to wig me. I listened as she washed her face,
Speaker 1: move quietly, tiptooed, almost, then slid into bed and lay
Speaker 1: facing the wall, not touching me, both of us pretending
Speaker 1: it normal. For several days, the script repeated, Sophia here
Speaker 1: but not here, always on her phone, always with meetings
Speaker 1: and obligations, stretching late. I stopped bothering to ask if
Speaker 1: she wanted to join me for anything. Each time a
Speaker 1: polite refusal a new reason. When we did talk, her
Speaker 1: patience was then, but she would rebound hours later, apologetic,
Speaker 1: pulling close like she was trying to will the gap
Speaker 1: between us shut. One evening, fueled by a left of
Speaker 1: her surge of false hope, I brought up the idea
Speaker 1: of a proper getaway, three days, no work, no meetings,
Speaker 1: just us in the mountains. Sophia smiled, but it was
Speaker 1: a tired smile. Let's plan it soon, maybe after the
Speaker 1: next round of investment closes. Okay, I just can't write now, Ethan,
Speaker 1: I'm barely holding it altogether. My annoyance turned almost immediately
Speaker 1: to guilt. I rubbed her back, tried not to sound defeated.
Speaker 1: I just miss here. I want to feel like we're
Speaker 1: on the same team again, I said quietly. She leaned
Speaker 1: into me as clothes. I feel that way too, I do.
Speaker 1: I just need you to trust me to handle things.
Speaker 1: Trust me, okay, I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Still,
Speaker 1: something shifted after that. For a couple of weeks she
Speaker 1: seemed to put in an effort. She texts me mid
Speaker 1: day for no reason. Send selfie from the studio, pick
Speaker 1: up my favorite takeout on the way home. We even
Speaker 1: had a stretch of undistracted evenings together, nothing special, just
Speaker 1: share time, Netflix and shared wine, the kind of vzy
Speaker 1: atmosphere that one s marked the best of our life.
Speaker 1: I watched myself relax, foolishly, perhaps, but I wanted to
Speaker 1: believe we were coming out the other side. But the
Speaker 1: relief didn't last. It was like some engine in Sopha's
Speaker 1: life was started pulling her back out the door every evening,
Speaker 1: every weekend morning. She barely mentioned alec in those weeks,
Speaker 1: but sometimes late at night, I'd hear the buzz of
Speaker 1: her phone, brief snatches of laughter through the thing wall
Speaker 1: before she stifled the sand. One Saturday, as she showered
Speaker 1: after her early class, I noticed her phone discarded on
Speaker 1: the kitchen table, a small blue case her second skin.
Speaker 1: The scream was dark, but I could see another message
Speaker 1: better for me, ah a branch next Fridays, last time,
Speaker 1: secure that the rest was cut off, I set the
Speaker 1: phone back exactly where I found it, handshaking a little.
Speaker 1: The spiral accelerated. At the next mutual friend's party, and
Speaker 1: engagement for val Sofia arrived separately late. She was dressed up,
Speaker 1: make up just a little heavier than normal, perfume, trailing
Speaker 1: far enough ahead of her to announce every entrance. I
Speaker 1: tried to ask about her day, but she brushed me off,
Speaker 1: gravitating to the bar and friend clusters that didn't include me.
Speaker 1: I nursed my beer and watched her foot through conversations,
Speaker 1: the hostess in her element, smiling effortlessly, every gesture p effect.
Speaker 1: My annoyance rose and receded in waves, tamped down only
Speaker 1: by the thought of making a scene in front of
Speaker 1: our friends. At one point I saw Alex slip in
Speaker 1: the door, instantly greeted by Sophia, who stood a little
Speaker 1: too close as she introduced him to a few people.
Speaker 1: He changed from that first meeting. I clocked the fitted
Speaker 1: button down an expensive watch, the easy confidence our eyes
Speaker 1: met once. His expression didn't linger long enough for me
Speaker 1: to read into her polite disinterest. Maybe, but I watched
Speaker 1: as he and Sophie carried on a low conversation by
Speaker 1: the window, heads together, conspiratorial. I walked over, casually, offering drinks,
Speaker 1: trying not to look like I was keeping tabs Sophie
Speaker 1: included me in a quick laugh, then said, Alec was
Speaker 1: just telling me about a nightmare built out at his
Speaker 1: last place, Vendor disasters. You'd love that write, she grinned,
Speaker 1: nudging my shoulder. Alex eyes flick to mine. A watchfault
Speaker 1: new to look sounds rough, I said, trying to keep
Speaker 1: it light. Glad you turo survive in expansion hell together.
Speaker 1: Sophie smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Alec drained the
Speaker 1: last of his drink and checked his watch. I'll catch
Speaker 1: you at the office Monday, he said, gnawing to both
Speaker 1: of us before slipping out. The rest of the evening,
Speaker 1: Sophia slated between outsides cheerfulness and sudden silence in the
Speaker 1: uber home. She pressed her chin to the window, Hans
Speaker 1: locked in her lap, phone silent but burning a hole
Speaker 1: in her clutch. I turned, struggling to keep my voice soft.
Speaker 1: Is everything okay? You seemed elsewhere to night. She didn't
Speaker 1: answer right away, just watched the street lights flutter past. Finally,
Speaker 1: she said, can you just let me breathe? It's a
Speaker 1: lot right now. Her voice was sharp. Final. We rode
Speaker 1: the rest of the way home in silence. Late that night,
Speaker 1: I woke to find our bed empty. I followed the
Speaker 1: dim light to the living room, where sofa sat crossed
Speaker 1: like it on the sofa, laptop open. I hovered in
Speaker 1: the doorway. Can't sleep, she jumped, you startled me. Just
Speaker 1: catching up on email. Want some tea? She shook her head,
Speaker 1: eyes fixed on her screen, and go back to bed. Ethan,
Speaker 1: I'll be in soon, I complied, but resolved crystallized in
Speaker 1: my chest. I needed to stop spinning in circles. Needed
Speaker 1: to know if my life was really what it seemed.
Speaker 1: The next morning, while Sophia went for her long run,
Speaker 1: I decided to dig deepernot on her phone or compute
Speaker 1: at his time, but start him with the studio. I
Speaker 1: dressed quickly, headed out and parked a block from her
Speaker 1: store front, waiting for applause, Books, keys too drop by.
Speaker 1: My hope, if you can call it, that, was that
Speaker 1: I'd find her working alone or with one of her
Speaker 1: actual staff, and the weight of my debts wore finely
Speaker 1: glapsed under some embarrassing the mundane reality. When I entered,
Speaker 1: the scent of pine cleaner and faint music greeted me,
Speaker 1: but the desk was unattended. I wandered toward her office
Speaker 1: and knocked, expecting to hear her annoyed sigh. Instead, I
Speaker 1: found Clara from her team, head down in the books.
Speaker 1: She looked up, surprised, Hey, Ethan, didn't know you were
Speaker 1: coming in to day. I tried to play casual, brought
Speaker 1: coffee for Sophia. Is she in? Clara blinked, then shook
Speaker 1: her head. She's not due till noon, said she had
Speaker 1: an offset client this morning. She hesitated, then smiled weaker.
Speaker 1: You want me to give her a message? I shook
Speaker 1: my head, forcing a smile. No, biggy, I'll text her.
Speaker 1: You guys keeping busy. She nodded a little awkwardly, and
Speaker 1: I left, heart rattling all the way down to the street.
Speaker 1: Back in my car, I debated calling Sovia, confronting her
Speaker 1: in some big dramatic way, but I've been brushed off
Speaker 1: enough to know that wouldn't make a difference now. Instead,
Speaker 1: I drove aimlessly for an hour round the city, passing
Speaker 1: places we once called though as outdoor markets, bookshops, declining Jim,
Speaker 1: we'd both abandoned. It all felt utterly distant, like memories
Speaker 1: borrowed from some one else. Monday morning, brought the return
Speaker 1: to normal, the real normal now, which was vigilant, colored
Speaker 1: by shame. I went through our fridge, noting the out
Speaker 1: grocery Sofia had purchased extra protein shakes, weird imported snacks
Speaker 1: she'd never like before. The changes were stacking up faster
Speaker 1: than I could rationalize them. That evening, as we lay
Speaker 1: in bed, both pretending to read, she said quietly, are
Speaker 1: you angry with me? I glanced over, caught off guard.
Speaker 1: No why, She shrugged, looking smaller than I'd seen her
Speaker 1: in months. You've been quiet suspicious. I set my book
Speaker 1: down and reached for her hand. I just miss you.
Speaker 1: I want to be let in, not always guessing what's
Speaker 1: going on with you. For a moment, her eyes grew glassy.
Speaker 1: She squeezed my hand. I'm sorry, I really ampt. This
Speaker 1: expansions just swallowed me whole. For a minute, I almost
Speaker 1: believed it. Foremost convinced myself that the only thing eating
Speaker 1: at us was ambition and change. But beneath the warm sheets,
Speaker 1: I could still feel the cold, empty spaces where Truce's
Speaker 1: hands settled. All that week, the friction escalated a tiny
Speaker 1: and spoken arguments over nothing. The cabinets left open, forgotten texts,
Speaker 1: plans made in cancel. Each more. Failure to connect felt
Speaker 1: weighted with history, as if we both remember the time
Speaker 1: when things went so hard and neither could figure out
Speaker 1: why it had to beat this way now. Thursday night,
Speaker 1: I came home to find Sophie preparing dinner, music on low,
Speaker 1: simmering past the sauce fill in the apartment, with the
Speaker 1: smell of tomatoes and garlic. I was caught off guard.
Speaker 1: She rarely cooked any more. She turned, beaming, surprise, you've
Speaker 1: had a rough week. Let me sooil you a little.
Speaker 1: I smiled back, allowing myself to relax into it. We
Speaker 1: ate slowly, watched some mindless TV, made love with a
Speaker 1: care that felt almost reverent. Afterward, she called against me,
Speaker 1: tracing circles on my chest. So you believe in us,
Speaker 1: as she whispered, I do, I. I just want the
Speaker 1: real us, no secrets. Her fingers paused, but she didn't answer.
Speaker 1: I almost press, but she had already closed her eyes.
Speaker 1: That fragile comfort didn't last long. The following evening, while
Speaker 1: gathering laundry, I found another slip of evidence, a dry
Speaker 1: cleaning tag in the pocket of her leggings from a
Speaker 1: shop in the neighboring city. I remembered her saying she'd
Speaker 1: barely left her part of town all week to swamp
Speaker 1: to even think about catching a train. God another red flag,
Speaker 1: small but undeniable. On instinct, I stuffed the tag in
Speaker 1: my jeans and kept moving. I didn't ask about it
Speaker 1: that night. Instead, I waited, watched, counted the ways the
Speaker 1: rhythms of our life now depended on explanations given, trust,
Speaker 1: asked for, unquietly denied. On Saturday, she told me she'd
Speaker 1: be unavailable all afternoon, something about a potential investor meeting,
Speaker 1: hush hush, because it wasn't finalized. I set about my
Speaker 1: own errands, but made a point to call the dry cleaner.
Speaker 1: I asked, as neutrally as possible whether a Sofia Arson
Speaker 1: had been in that week. A cheerful woman on the
Speaker 1: line confirmed, Oh, yes. She picked up Thursday morning, brought
Speaker 1: in a black cocktail dress and a men's blazer. A
Speaker 1: men's blazer. I thanked her and hung up my hands
Speaker 1: trembling on the countertop. I knew at that point that
Speaker 1: I couldn't keep pretending the amount of evidence minor and circumstantial.
Speaker 1: It was starting to add up to something far too
Speaker 1: pointed to be innocent. I spend the rest of the
Speaker 1: day in a haze, alternating between anger and a new
Speaker 1: associative sadness. That evening, while she was still gone, I
Speaker 1: sat at our kitchen table, staring at her open laptop,
Speaker 1: again complicit in my own destruction. I hesitated, then opened
Speaker 1: her email once more. This time there were no new
Speaker 1: messages for me are, but in her a deleted folder
Speaker 1: I found a few recently emptied threads with the same
Speaker 1: sender in them. Malec's tone was breezy, casualst so they
Speaker 1: bought that you're in back to backs, can't wait for
Speaker 1: next time? Miss You already references to nights in hotels
Speaker 1: inside her jokes comments about slipping away from the noise
Speaker 1: of the city. My eyes burned as I closed it
Speaker 1: all out. I wiped my finger prints from the track,
Speaker 1: pat barely breathing by the time Sophy walked through the doorway,
Speaker 1: all laughter a left of her muffin in a knockin
Speaker 1: for me. My mind was razor sharp, I smiled as
Speaker 1: she settled next to me, asking about my day. Her
Speaker 1: voice gentle, Did ye get much done? While I was out?
Speaker 1: I nodded, matching her casual tone. More than usual. You
Speaker 1: look happy, invested, good news. She glanced away for a
Speaker 1: split second, then nodded, almost eager. It's looking likely. I'll
Speaker 1: know more in a few days. Just have to keep
Speaker 1: everything low pressure till then. We sat in that pretent
Speaker 1: for a minute, two strangers doing an impression of warmth,
Speaker 1: and I thought it won't be long now. The truth
Speaker 1: is coming for both of us. I just have to
Speaker 1: let it arrive. Sophia's voice was just above a whisper
Speaker 1: when she placed the coffee on the table and settled
Speaker 1: in beside me. Niece tucked up her bare ankle, brushing mine.
Speaker 1: She looked drawn, but her eyes held an up brightness,
Speaker 1: like a wire stretch to his limmit, I mashed her smile,
Speaker 1: as though neither of us were miles underwater. The dinner
Speaker 1: talk was practical, her inventory spreadsheets giving her grief the
Speaker 1: investor whose interest was there but not signed, and I
Speaker 1: can't count on it until then. Her narrative was smooth,
Speaker 1: practiced for the hundred time in the last few months.
Speaker 1: I tried to picture the actual shape of her world.
Speaker 1: Who ruly knew what and what was just from me? Afterward,
Speaker 1: she lingered on the couch, half watching an episode of
Speaker 1: some reality show I couldn't pretend to care about. I
Speaker 1: sat with her close but careful, one eye on the clock,
Speaker 1: my mind tick for all she said, each assurance, in
Speaker 1: each omission, making a silent tully, doubts and facts, holes
Speaker 1: and of oolapping times. I think she sensed me watching her.
Speaker 1: She snuggled sideways, reached out to squeeze my hand. Eventually
Speaker 1: she yawned, stood and in nance, I'll head to bed
Speaker 1: you coming. Her tongue was light, but her shoulders remained tense.
Speaker 1: I shook my head of saint Babe, just want to
Speaker 1: finish this article. She nodded a slight glance back before
Speaker 1: slipping into the hallway. I waited for the sound of
Speaker 1: the bathroom door, then patted into the kitchen, opened my
Speaker 1: laptop and started matching receipts, e mails and counter to
Speaker 1: blocks one more time. I wanted, with a kind of
Speaker 1: hungry desperation, to disprove my own theory, but the story
Speaker 1: only tightened. Every denial now pulsed with a second, meaning
Speaker 1: a reverse echo. The email from Ala krivere Ah leaped
Speaker 1: in my mind, as did the awkward shuffle at the
Speaker 1: dry cleaners and every terce studio visit. There was nowhere
Speaker 1: else to look except at the patents themselves. Half an
Speaker 1: hour passed before Sophie returned. Hare damp beadjom the too large.
Speaker 1: She paused in the doorway. You coming to bed, it's late.
Speaker 1: In a sc sorry, I murmured, voice neutral, Something at
Speaker 1: work spinning. I'll be right there, She hesitated, worry flickering,
Speaker 1: don't stay up all night, ethan. I nodded, forced a
Speaker 1: gentle look. When she left, I scrawled back through the
Speaker 1: most recent emails. My hands trembled, more from adrenaline than fear.
Speaker 1: I found the reservation for Marcelina confirmed under Rivera, just
Speaker 1: as the dry cleaner had confirmed the pickup of his
Speaker 1: blazer and her cocktail dress. This was it. I could
Speaker 1: see the shape of the betrayal as plain as a
Speaker 1: shadow thrown by the headlights through our blinds. But when
Speaker 1: I closed the laptop and rested my head in my hands,
Speaker 1: a leaden sadness settled over me. No more uncertainty, no
Speaker 1: fantasy left to protect me. I needed to speak with
Speaker 1: Sofia directly, and finally, but the courage to face it
Speaker 1: failed me at night. Instead, I walked through our apartment,
Speaker 1: flicking off each light, pausing in the living room, heavy
Speaker 1: with things, pick out together, the frame raise bib from
Speaker 1: our first half marathon, my war nutmets cap tossed on
Speaker 1: the curt hooks alongside Sofa's backpack. Every object seemed to
Speaker 1: idate a different warmth, now merely evidence of what had
Speaker 1: existed and was fracturing. I barely slept. When I did,
Speaker 1: I saw blood shapes at the edge of dream, a
Speaker 1: woman running away on empty city streets, a lock studio,
Speaker 1: a small blue foam blinking in the dark. I won't
Speaker 1: draw mad to my pillow cold. When I reached over,
Speaker 1: I found Sophie's back turn, breathing slow and reachable. I
Speaker 1: lay there, counting each in hale until I had enough
Speaker 1: air to get up and face the day. Work was torture.
Speaker 1: I barely heard my boss of a conference call my
Speaker 1: mind drifting, keys clicking, secretly, laughter, bleeding through walls, Alec's
Speaker 1: hand on Sophie's At that bar, I nearly called out sick,
Speaker 1: but busied myself with mindless tasks, just waiting for night
Speaker 1: to arrive. At night, I knew I couldn't put off
Speaker 1: what needed to happen. We exchanged a handful of texts
Speaker 1: during the day. Her check ins oddly sweet, maybe even guilty.
Speaker 1: Good luck at your presentation dinner on me to night,
Speaker 1: I replied, sounds great. Home by six even in riding
Speaker 1: the distance between us hand. By late afternoon, I couldn't
Speaker 1: stand it any longer. I coordinate again, voice hushed, though
Speaker 1: my office door was shut. You ever see Alec and
Speaker 1: Sophia together since that party pause? I did man at
Speaker 1: tavern sixteen, like I said, And well, I saw them
Speaker 1: at the wine bar by Union maybe a couple months back.
Speaker 1: They were sitting close. Nothing crazy, but it didn't seem
Speaker 1: all business. Sorry do, I cleared my throat, said thank Hugh,
Speaker 1: and hung up. The confirmation staed, but it finally gave
Speaker 1: me the jolt I needed. I stood in the middle
Speaker 1: of my clotted cubicle, imagining the confrontation, her face falling,
Speaker 1: the well spinning, the silence that must come after. When
Speaker 1: I left work early, nobody questioned me. I timed my
Speaker 1: rival for when I knew Sofia would be preppent dinner
Speaker 1: that last shared rituel. My fist bowled and unbold in
Speaker 1: my pockets all the way up the elevator. Sometimes I
Speaker 1: pictured her already knowing what I'd found. Sometimes I pictured
Speaker 1: her believing she'd hidden it all and resenting me for noticing.
Speaker 1: When I came in, the kitchen was fragrant with roasted
Speaker 1: garlic and chickpeas. Sophia stood at the counter, sleeves roll,
Speaker 1: brow furrowed in concentration. She smiled at me genuinely. It
Speaker 1: seemed hey e ely wine. She opened the fridge, hand
Speaker 1: already reaching for the bottle. I thought, to keep my
Speaker 1: even sure. Just half a glass. She poured and slid
Speaker 1: the glass over, then moved round the kitchen, narrating half
Speaker 1: her thoughts. So I keep forgetting we are out of
Speaker 1: black Peppakaje put it on the list, as if rehearsing normalady.
Speaker 1: I followed her into the living room, glass in hand.
Speaker 1: The bravery had rehearsed all day clumped in my chest, Sophia,
Speaker 1: I started, can we just sit for a second. I
Speaker 1: didn't wait for an answer. Jes prouched on the arm chair,
Speaker 1: hands clasped, watching her settle on the sofa, expression suddenly weary,
Speaker 1: A half smile frozen on her lips. What's up? Her
Speaker 1: tone was firm, but her eyes darted. She already knew
Speaker 1: that I knew something. I started as gently as I could.
Speaker 1: I keep telling myself it's just dress, and I want
Speaker 1: to believe you. But something's wrong, though. Are things that
Speaker 1: don't match. The studio hours, the dinners you call business,
Speaker 1: the trip last month, the dress, and the receipt I found.
Speaker 1: And I tried so hard not to look, but I did.
Speaker 1: I saw the emails, the ones from Alec RIVERA silence,
Speaker 1: sharp and bright. The only sound was the hum of
Speaker 1: the refrigerator, the far away wheel of siren. Sophia's posture stiffened,
Speaker 1: hands gripped her knees, knuckles whitening. Her eyes met mine,
Speaker 1: deep pulls, rimmed with fear and anger. She opened her mouth,
Speaker 1: then closed it. For a moment, I thought she might
Speaker 1: deny everything, my scream might run. Instead, she deflased in
Speaker 1: front of me, shoulders slumping, breath, visibly shuddering. How much
Speaker 1: did you read? Her voice was so small I almost
Speaker 1: didn't recognize it enough, I said, enough to know it
Speaker 1: wasn't just about business, enough to know this isn't just
Speaker 1: in my head. She squeezed her I shut shaking. I'm
Speaker 1: so tired Ethan, I'm so tired of this. I can't
Speaker 1: do it any more. Those words hung between us, electric somehow,
Speaker 1: breaking both of us at once without raising a voice.
Speaker 1: The next minutes passed in fragments, her veering between shut
Speaker 1: down tremors and sudden bursts of defensiveness, insisting it wasn't
Speaker 1: a plan, not like an escape up from us. I
Speaker 1: tried to keep my turn calm, but the tremor in
Speaker 1: my hands betrayed me. When did it start? I asked?
Speaker 1: Was it since he met him? Or was there something
Speaker 1: already wrong with us? She looked at the floor, twisting
Speaker 1: her fingers until the knuckles blanched. It started after we
Speaker 1: decided to do the second studio. He invested. He was
Speaker 1: a lot. We talk until late. I felt invisible at home,
Speaker 1: like he stopped seeing me when I was dressed, Like
Speaker 1: you were always on the side lines, cheering, but never
Speaker 1: in the fight with me. He made me feel I
Speaker 1: don't know, softer heard. It wasn't about love at first,
Speaker 1: just being able to breathe again. Then I couldn't stop.
Speaker 1: A shudder went through me, anger at myself for wanting
Speaker 1: an explanation. Anger at her for making me feel like
Speaker 1: a stranger in my own home. Were you planning to
Speaker 1: leave me? My voice was flat, She led out a
Speaker 1: broken laugh. I wasn't planning anything. I just kept going,
Speaker 1: telling myself it would end after the next big milestone,
Speaker 1: and then I tell you, and it would be behind us.
Speaker 1: But I never she stopped shaking. Now, I'm sorry. I
Speaker 1: kept thinking you'd see, or that I could hold it
Speaker 1: all together. We sat in the low light, the food
Speaker 1: in the kitchen already burning, the time of chiming uselessly
Speaker 1: in another room. I looked around, searching for a way
Speaker 1: to pin the world back into place. Was it just physical,
Speaker 1: she started to answer, faltered, then just covered her eyes.
Speaker 1: I don't know if it was physical, it was emotional.
Speaker 1: I can't explain why I betrayed you. I don't even
Speaker 1: know how it happened, except that it did, and it
Speaker 1: kept happening. I hit it because it made me feel
Speaker 1: live again, and then I hated myself for it. I
Speaker 1: sat perfectly still, feeling my hands curling to claws, then relaxed,
Speaker 1: then tense again. When effinely stood, I said, I can't
Speaker 1: stay here tonight. I can't pretend. She didn't try to
Speaker 1: stop me. There were tears, finally, sharp and silent. She
Speaker 1: sat hunched on the sofa, face turned to the wall.
Speaker 1: I went to the bedroom, threw clothes, until bag, underwear, shorts,
Speaker 1: a hoodie, my running shoes, socks, the paperback, my phone charger,
Speaker 1: nothing that mattered more than the space it took. As
Speaker 1: I crossed the living room, Sofia looked up. Her eyes
Speaker 1: were raw, swollen ethan. I know there's no way to
Speaker 1: make it right. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back.
Speaker 1: I didn't trust myself to speak. I let myself out,
Speaker 1: careful not to slam the door. The hallway and elevator
Speaker 1: were empty, surreal in their ordinariness. I kept my steps deliberate,
Speaker 1: the sounds of my own breath. The only provel was still,
Speaker 1: somehow in a body moving forward. I texted my brother
Speaker 1: to ask if I could crash for the night, to
Speaker 1: only that he didn't ask questions, just sent me his
Speaker 1: door code and a thumbs up. I walked to twenty
Speaker 1: blocks on foot, tea fired and gutted to call a ride.
Speaker 1: City Lights spilled everywhere, Traffic, a late bus, a couple
Speaker 1: fighting on the street corner. Everything normal, except for the
Speaker 1: world inside my head. When I let myself into my
Speaker 1: brother's apartment, he met me at the door. There was
Speaker 1: a quick, wordless hug. He made space on the couch,
Speaker 1: drew me a spare pillow, then vanished to his bedroom alone.
Speaker 1: At last, I sat on the edge of the sofa,
Speaker 1: staring at the screen of my phone. There was a
Speaker 1: new message from Sophia. Please tell your parents. I am
Speaker 1: so sorry. I powdered off without replying. I made a
Speaker 1: makeshift bed, lay down and closed my eyes. In the dark.
Speaker 1: The din of the city seeped under the window, impersonal,
Speaker 1: forever indifferent. For the first time in a long while,
Speaker 1: there was nothing I could do but wait for the
Speaker 1: hurting to recede. Morning came as a kind of insult's sun,
Speaker 1: sharp and insistent, body sore, mouth dry, the realization that
Speaker 1: sleep offered only temporary anesthesia. My brother patted out, handed
Speaker 1: me a mug of coffee, then retreated with the silent
Speaker 1: tact of some one who knew not to ask the obvious.
Speaker 1: One by one, the day's obligations pressed in. I called
Speaker 1: and sick to work a first for me, and pace
Speaker 1: from window to window the city outside and caring an
Speaker 1: unfamiliar place, messages, accumulated, calls from my parents. I couldn't
Speaker 1: answer group text from friends trying to organize brunch, Sophie's
Speaker 1: name popping up again and again as her world and
Speaker 1: mine disentangled. At last, I knew I'd need to go
Speaker 1: back to the apartment to collect more than just a
Speaker 1: night's belongings. Divide the books of the plants, the evidence
Speaker 1: of a shared six years. The thought made me dizzy,
Speaker 1: so I shout it off. For now, it was enough
Speaker 1: just to breathe, to have space. Later that afternoon, a
Speaker 1: mutual friend texted simply, Hey, is everything okay with you too?
Speaker 1: I didn't answer, just scrolled through our old marathon photos,
Speaker 1: the finish line shot where we both bent doubles, where
Speaker 1: he and beaming and wrapped in each other. That person
Speaker 1: didn't exist anymore, I realize, at least not in the
Speaker 1: same combination. Somewhere down the whole. My brother slammed a
Speaker 1: cupbot shut. I flinched, heart pounding far too fast. It
Speaker 1: was as if every ordinary sound was now an accusation
Speaker 1: of love, wasted of time, lost of trust, abandoned. I
Speaker 1: spent the next hour repacking my Duffel, realizing I'd bought
Speaker 1: almost nothing that belonged to Sophia, that fat brought a
Speaker 1: shop census. Grief hadn't prepared for. I lay flat for
Speaker 1: several minutes, not fully sleeping, but exhausted by the simple
Speaker 1: fact of being awake. By sundown, the city had shifted.
Speaker 1: Sun slid through the windows and caught on the glass,
Speaker 1: bathing the world in amber and gold. At some point,
Speaker 1: my brother appeared again, tentative, you want to grab a burger?
Speaker 1: I shook my head, voice tight, thanks, they just need air.
Speaker 1: He nodded, handed over his set of keys, and went
Speaker 1: out alone. I scrolled absently through my phone, all texts
Speaker 1: and images. Every line from Sophia vibrated with the energy
Speaker 1: of something final, a story that had been running parallel
Speaker 1: to mine, overlapping and then separating, breaking not with a crush,
Speaker 1: but with a long, slow tear my knifel. Sophia had
Speaker 1: announced her decision to the studio staff. She'd be stepping
Speaker 1: back for a wall due to personal matters. I saw
Speaker 1: it on the studio's Instagram, a terse message beneath some
Speaker 1: peptock court. I realized there would be hunters of these ripples.
Speaker 1: Passing through every corner of our joint life. Friends, co workers,
Speaker 1: the landlord, the gym staff. None of them would know
Speaker 1: the conscious of what had spled, only that something foundational
Speaker 1: had failed. That night, my parents called again, and this
Speaker 1: time I let the phone wing at I couldn't face
Speaker 1: the questions, the comfort they offer us to come home.
Speaker 1: Lying in the dark, I stared at the ceiling, at
Speaker 1: the small cracks spreading like veins. Each time I closed
Speaker 1: my eyes, I saw Sofa's face, every version of her
Speaker 1: laughing in a crowd, crossing the finish line, sitting alone
Speaker 1: on that couch with her hands pressed to her temples,
Speaker 1: the person who loved me and the person who hid
Speaker 1: from me. I stared until my vision blurred, until the
Speaker 1: body beneath the blanket finally forgot what it was supposed
Speaker 1: to feel. When the sky bruis from blue to black,
Speaker 1: I sat up, the room call around me, strange and impersonal.
Speaker 1: My duffel gaped open on the floor, a pile of
Speaker 1: sweatshirts running shoes over sipts. I pulled out my phone
Speaker 1: and scrolled to the last photo of Sofia and my
Speaker 1: arms slung around each other. After that first city marathon faces, lean,
Speaker 1: crimson ormus, bodies tired and young, and certain of the
Speaker 1: path ahead. My thumb hovered over the trash. I can,
Speaker 1: I hesitated, mouth dry before I pressed elite. Afterward, I
Speaker 1: went to the window, keys still clutched, and opened the
Speaker 1: blinds just as the first storm bled along the roof
Speaker 1: ups the city was waking up. I inhaled the air
Speaker 1: cold with the promise of something not yet named, and
Speaker 1: told myself the day would come, no matter who did
Speaker 1: or didn't wake with me. The summurase blazed against the
Speaker 1: street window, refracting off the neighboring buildings until everything outside
Speaker 1: seemed washed fresher, less, haunted by the debris of the night,
Speaker 1: I stayed there with my forehead against the coal lass,
Speaker 1: just breathing, not letting myself hope for anything, only letting
Speaker 1: the chill work its way inside my chest, where everything
Speaker 1: still stud I stripped out of yesterday's clothes, put on
Speaker 1: my running shoes, unlocked the apartment door behind me, pulling
Speaker 1: the breath of a waking city into my lungs. I
Speaker 1: ran without a rubber pace, pounding through on familiar blocks
Speaker 1: until the early runner's thin and the bakery cuts rolled
Speaker 1: out until I felt a little steadier, if not stronger.
Speaker 1: I tried not to think, not to reap lay the
Speaker 1: moment in our living room. Her hunch ruined posture, the
Speaker 1: burn in my throat. When I walked out, all that
Speaker 1: was left was the ache in my legs and the
Speaker 1: cold hash in my head. When I came back, my
Speaker 1: brother was already up, watching the news, with his feet
Speaker 1: on the coffee table, mug in hand. He didn't say anything,
Speaker 1: for which I was grateful. I made myself eggs, shoveled
Speaker 1: them down, showered and dressed routine, I told myself, even
Speaker 1: if it felt like going through someone else's script. To day,
Speaker 1: my phone was relentless. Four texts from my mother, each
Speaker 1: one shorter and more insistent than the last, A miscall
Speaker 1: from my father. A single message from Sophie green bubble,
Speaker 1: now not the familiar blue. I hope you SAYE tell
Speaker 1: me if you need anything from home. I washed the
Speaker 1: words until they blurred, then set the phone aside and
Speaker 1: left it face down for hours. It was a day
Speaker 1: spent in silence, my brother slipping in and out of
Speaker 1: the space, asking if I wanted sandwich. I'll walk a
Speaker 1: dumb action movie or two, always with enough room for
Speaker 1: me to decline without guilt. I answered the minimum, but
Speaker 1: my head kept flitting back to our apartment, to the
Speaker 1: division of space and life, to the silent question of
Speaker 1: who would make the first move. It was all practical now,
Speaker 1: and even as it ripped me up. What do you pack?
Speaker 1: What do you say? How much do you or aser keep?
Speaker 1: Late that afternoon, a call came from the studio's main number.
Speaker 1: I didn't answer. The voicemail was from Chlora, her voice careful, Hi, Ethan.
Speaker 1: I was just wondering if I could grab some paperwork
Speaker 1: for tax stuff. I can have Sophie pick it up. No.
Speaker 1: I deleted it without listening further and sculled through my contacts.
Speaker 1: Half tempted to call my father, just to avoid the
Speaker 1: next round of interrogating texts, I stopped from paused over
Speaker 1: the coal button. Instead, I sent a text to both
Speaker 1: my parents, not ready to talk. I'm all right, please
Speaker 1: give me time. My brother brought home dinner, dropping a
Speaker 1: greasy bag of suvlaki on the counter, and insisted I
Speaker 1: eat at least half. I had no idea you could
Speaker 1: lose weight in one night, he tried, then quickly backtracked
Speaker 1: at my dead pan. Look that small spark of normalcy.
Speaker 1: His ridiculous attempt at humor helped steady me for the
Speaker 1: next step, one I'd been avoiding since the door shut
Speaker 1: behind me. I needed to go back, if only to
Speaker 1: face the logistics, to see what was left. Armed with
Speaker 1: a half charged phone, I called Sophia. She picked up
Speaker 1: on the second ring, and for the first few seconds
Speaker 1: neither of us spoke. I heard her exhale, a quaver
Speaker 1: that shuddered through the line. Do you want me to
Speaker 1: leave when you come by, she asked, voice barely above
Speaker 1: a whisper. That's probably easiest, I replied, surprising myself with
Speaker 1: how detached I sounded. A pause, I could hear her swallow.
Speaker 1: Just let me know when. I waited until evening, after
Speaker 1: commute traffic and before the street lights came on in full.
Speaker 1: I texted her, heading over will text when undone. She
Speaker 1: replied instantly, I'll go for a walk, text if you
Speaker 1: need longer. The apartment felt different, empty, the heat turned low,
Speaker 1: no music, the air faintly musty. Shoes lined up by
Speaker 1: the door, her bag missing, one plant dead in the corner,
Speaker 1: another on life support. I walked room by room, back
Speaker 1: in hand, taking clothes and books, my laptop, the faded
Speaker 1: hat she always borrowed and never returned. I stopped at
Speaker 1: the fridge, discarding a half finished bottle of pino in
Speaker 1: the last of the left of alas on as she'd
Speaker 1: never eatn It took an hour, maybe two. I packed
Speaker 1: only what felt necessary tea shirts, tooth brush charger, a
Speaker 1: few photos I couldn't bed to throw out, but couldn't
Speaker 1: look at either. I left my running metal hanging on
Speaker 1: the door knob, and after thought I couldn't explain even
Speaker 1: to myself. When I finished, I stood in the living room,
Speaker 1: looking around one last time, the worn patch on the sofa,
Speaker 1: the line of succulents on the sill, the photo magnet
Speaker 1: of us at the county and overlook. I took it
Speaker 1: off and slept it in my coat pocket with a
Speaker 1: numbs sort of reverence. As I let myself out, I
Speaker 1: caught a glimpse of Sofia coming down the block, head down,
Speaker 1: hand shoved deep into her diet. She didn't look up
Speaker 1: until I was half a yard from the curb. When
Speaker 1: our eyes met, there was a nod at the base
Speaker 1: of my throat at her to swallow. She started, I
Speaker 1: put your work files in the blue folder on the desk.
Speaker 1: I wasn't sure if it's fine. I got everything, I said.
Speaker 1: My voice sounded wrong to me, grinny and unfamiliar. Sophia nodded,
Speaker 1: shoulders tight, the whole world in the space between us.
Speaker 1: She swallowed ethan, I know. I don't as if you're
Speaker 1: talking to me now. I just I want you to
Speaker 1: know I really loved you. I'm sorry I broke it
Speaker 1: like this. I know, I said, meaning both less and
Speaker 1: more than the words could hold. Take care of yourself.
Speaker 1: She nodded, tears streaking down her cheeks, but didn't try
Speaker 1: to close the distance. The wind rocked us a little
Speaker 1: on the stupe city lights flowering up in the dying
Speaker 1: blue of evening. I couldn't move at first, then found
Speaker 1: my legs walked away without looking back. I texted her
Speaker 1: once I'd rounded the corner, it's done. I won't be back.
Speaker 1: She didn't reply, and the sigh ellant was a relief.
Speaker 1: I made my way through the charged day of evening,
Speaker 1: pastor pizza, joined, past joggers in the park, past all
Speaker 1: the tiny places that used to belong to both of us.
Speaker 1: Each now only itself again. By the time I reached
Speaker 1: my brother's place, the sky was in black, the city loud, alive,
Speaker 1: and uncurrying. As ever that night, my duffle bag slumped
Speaker 1: by the door, I lay on the couch of wash
Speaker 1: in exhaustion, the ache of loss settling into something old
Speaker 1: and familiar. But I could breathe, even if it felt
Speaker 1: like breeding through bruises. When sleep finally came, my last
Speaker 1: thought was not of Sofia where Alec, or even if
Speaker 1: the person I had been a week ago. It was
Speaker 1: of the white ceiling overhead of Blackfield, waiting for the
Speaker 1: dawn to paint something new.