Speaker 1: The first time I ran alone on a Saturday morning
Speaker 1: felt wrong, in the way a favorite song sounds strange
Speaker 1: when played in a different key. The air was cold, translucent,
Speaker 1: and impossibly still for Dallas in late spring, almost enough
Speaker 1: to convince me nothing was a butt to change. I
Speaker 1: reached from my running shoes at the foot of the bed,
Speaker 1: careful not to wake Jason. He tossed and turned all night.
Speaker 1: She trapped around his legs like he was fighting something
Speaker 1: in a dream. But when I tiptoed into the kitchen,
Speaker 1: juggling headphones and half a banana, he was already there,
Speaker 1: not spoiled sleepily over the sports section, not making weed
Speaker 1: porteine smoothies, but dressed in off his casual call out shirt,
Speaker 1: gray slack's belt, not at all, but close enough to
Speaker 1: look and finish like he wasn't sure who he wanted
Speaker 1: to be to day. He fiddled with the French press
Speaker 1: and must have heard me behind him, because he turned
Speaker 1: quickly cooffe spashi a little on to the counter, barely
Speaker 1: meeting my eyes before bending to wipe it up with
Speaker 1: a napkin. You okay, I asked, aiming for light, playful,
Speaker 1: pushing the edge of his mooth, like a toe in
Speaker 1: cold water. He smiled at tight, lopsided thing. Sorry, babe,
Speaker 1: got ahead, and my in books is melting down already.
Speaker 1: Henderson's on a rampage. He flashed his phone screen at
Speaker 1: me by way of evidence, but the display only showed
Speaker 1: his lock screen. The running group will survived one Saturday.
Speaker 1: Promise him still a dream husband, He joked the words
Speaker 1: oddly flat, half swallowed. I tried not to make a face,
Speaker 1: but the disappointment was heavier than I wanted to admit.
Speaker 1: Big deadline. I pulled my hair into ponatail, watching him
Speaker 1: over my shoulder like I might catch him in a liye.
Speaker 1: For a second, I remembered all the times he dragged
Speaker 1: himself out on a few hours sleep to make our
Speaker 1: six mile loop. It was sacred. We always set our time,
Speaker 1: even when the rest of life pulled us in a
Speaker 1: dozen directions. The squartered every day. He ran a hand
Speaker 1: for his hair. I still fixed somewhere near my ankles.
Speaker 1: I'll make it up to you next week, o K.
Speaker 1: I nodded, lacing my shoes tight. Sure, I said, making
Speaker 1: it sound easy, like we were both grown ups with
Speaker 1: important things to do. But the way he kept checking
Speaker 1: the clock. How his voice sounded practiced, etched something cold
Speaker 1: into my gut. I told myself not to be needy
Speaker 1: or dramatic. Everyone has crunched times. I grabbed my key
Speaker 1: ease and kissed his cheek, the skin stiff with his
Speaker 1: morning shave. He didn't really kiss back. On the elevator
Speaker 1: ride down, I listened to my breathing, forced loud in
Speaker 1: the metal box. Alone on the sidewalk. The city felt unfamiliar,
Speaker 1: each shop front and traffic light and stray jack hammis
Speaker 1: somehow altered. It wasn't just Jason missing the run. I
Speaker 1: replayed his words, the way his hands tremble the lock screen.
Speaker 1: He hadn't unlocked. He'd been present, attentive, the sort of
Speaker 1: present that feels performative rather than real. Had it always
Speaker 1: felt like this when we were busy. I was half
Speaker 1: way to the park before I realized this wasn't just
Speaker 1: the loss of a ritual. It was the sudden knowledge
Speaker 1: that he had chosen to be somewhere else and wanted
Speaker 1: me not to ask why. The running group gathered on
Speaker 1: the steps near the fountains, all easy shouts and shoulder bumps,
Speaker 1: joking about splits and hangovers. Claire waved me over, adjusting
Speaker 1: her neon visor like a crown. She grinned, hugged me tightly,
Speaker 1: and for a minute everything went back to normal. No
Speaker 1: one asked about Jason. Why should they? Sometimes people were
Speaker 1: busy Lyddya said she was hung over. Thomas made fun
Speaker 1: of my playlist, Jeremy bragged his new record pace. But
Speaker 1: as we set off in Pears, I couldn't shake the
Speaker 1: hollow spot next to me. Jason's shadow ran beside me
Speaker 1: in memory, the way he always teases my stride, the
Speaker 1: look we'd exchange when we hit the third mile, as
Speaker 1: secret language of sweat and effort. Miles passed under my
Speaker 1: feet each block, feeling less certain? Was I being ridiculous?
Speaker 1: Jason had always supported my job, my ambition. He cheered
Speaker 1: through my interviews, made coffee at midnight, told me to
Speaker 1: fight for raises. Maybe it was just his turn to
Speaker 1: obsess about work, and I was what jealous of a client,
Speaker 1: freaked out by something as temporary as a miss Saturday.
Speaker 1: But the thought didn't sit right. It was as if
Speaker 1: our shared foundation had developed a hailine crack, and I
Speaker 1: could hear the faint persist and echo every time we
Speaker 1: tried to stand on it. When I got home, our
Speaker 1: condo was already empty. Jason's travel mug was washed and
Speaker 1: upside down in the rack, a tight coil of his
Speaker 1: type beside the sink, like a marker of his hurry.
Speaker 1: There was a faint smell of his cologne, something spicier
Speaker 1: than usual. For a moment, I imagine walking right into
Speaker 1: his office, seeing him hunched over emails, scowling at Henderson's
Speaker 1: demands instead, and half an hour in the shower, letting
Speaker 1: the water pound the doubt into the tile, repeating the
Speaker 1: story he'd given me until I almost believed it. The
Speaker 1: next morning, we sat at breakfast, everything laid up between us,
Speaker 1: crossus scrambled eggs with goat cheese, the Sunday Crossword, two mugs, steaming,
Speaker 1: as if this were a perfect tableau of merry life.
Speaker 1: But Jason kept glancing at his phone, his thumb tapping compulsively.
Speaker 1: When I tried to jerk about how I run better,
Speaker 1: but only because I hadn't had to keep up with
Speaker 1: his long legs, he barely smiled. Did you finish writing
Speaker 1: that story? I asked, trying to slip into normal, almost editors,
Speaker 1: He trailed off, staring at the wall behind me. Sorry,
Speaker 1: what were you saying? Nothing? I forced myself to reach
Speaker 1: for the crossword circling clues without reading them. I told
Speaker 1: myself it was fine. He dined the client, get through
Speaker 1: the quarter, and running would be yours again. We were
Speaker 1: always ok. Once, during our third month dating, we stayed
Speaker 1: up until four a and on the patio of Atoco Bar,
Speaker 1: arguing about start of equity splits in the best place
Speaker 1: for late night fried chicken. That night, I'd felt seen
Speaker 1: and chosen Jason's attention, a gleam, his hand covering mine,
Speaker 1: the sense that we belonged to the same strange dribe.
Speaker 1: Four years Mary, we'd kept pieces of the wildness and
Speaker 1: inside joke about IPO's the ability to finish each other's
Speaker 1: drinks at restaurants, late dinner, spent to courding office politics.
Speaker 1: We'd work for both of us, jobs that nearly broke us.
Speaker 1: An apartment so tiny you couldn't open the fridge and
Speaker 1: oven at the same time. Now two years in the
Speaker 1: uptun condo, a little more money, the freedom to order
Speaker 1: take out whenever we wanted, vacations, we could actually afford
Speaker 1: dinners with friends at fancy places where the wine was
Speaker 1: twice what I DA was spend in grad school. Saturday's
Speaker 1: were our anchor, so strong they held us through Leaff's
Speaker 1: hangovers and the dull ake of grown up routine. Our friends, too,
Speaker 1: had become fixtures. Clare, always ready with an intervention level brunch,
Speaker 1: Thomas powered by sarkism and whiskey, Jeremy and Lydia, who
Speaker 1: broke up and got back together every six months, still
Speaker 1: showing up for every run. I trusted Jason, maybe because
Speaker 1: he was so charming it was easy to believe nothing
Speaker 1: bad could touch us. Or maybe because when he was
Speaker 1: with me he could be dazzlingly present, goofy, warm, ambitious,
Speaker 1: sometimes refusing to talk about real feelings, but always letting
Speaker 1: me know in his way that he was proud of me.
Speaker 1: He'd shown up for every job offer, every promotion, sending
Speaker 1: flowers or dumb jokes by text. Even the way he
Speaker 1: compartmentalized the elusive sealed off when he talked about work.
Speaker 1: Stress felt familiar by now something we managed. I had
Speaker 1: learned to give him space, but sometimes when our group
Speaker 1: made plans or when we attended industry mixers, I could
Speaker 1: feel him growing silent. Standing right in the center of
Speaker 1: the crowd, but unreachable. I chalked it up to introvert
Speaker 1: fatigue or ambissioned toning inward. All this, I reminded myself.
Speaker 1: As a week started. Dinner still happened late Rush him
Speaker 1: eating over slack and me with an eye on my
Speaker 1: own work. We swapped wire stories about clients, traded stories
Speaker 1: from our friends lives, fell asleep watching comedians on YouTube.
Speaker 1: Most nights things felt the same, which made the moments
Speaker 1: of distance stand out even more. After my solo run,
Speaker 1: no more was said about it. I joined him for
Speaker 1: a delivery dinner from our favorite Vietnamese place, toasted him
Speaker 1: with a bottle of wine, and tried to make him laugh.
Speaker 1: He responded a little forced, but looked like he wanted
Speaker 1: to be grateful. When a mule was over and the
Speaker 1: plates were cleared, he suggested we catch up on that
Speaker 1: weird French drama we've been half watching for a while.
Speaker 1: His hand stayed on my leg, thum rubing lazy circles.
Speaker 1: The explanation for Saturday's absence seemed to fade, replaced by
Speaker 1: our usual rhythm, or it would have if I hadn't
Speaker 1: caught him late that night, hunched in the balcony, foam
Speaker 1: pressed tight to his face, murmuring something I couldn't hear.
Speaker 1: When I asked who he was talking to, he shrugged,
Speaker 1: pulling me close. Just Henderson, Sorry, boring stuff. I wanted
Speaker 1: to believe him. Lunch with Claire and Thomas the next
Speaker 1: weekend started like every other Foremoses in Claire holding caught
Speaker 1: about office politics, and Thomas quietly critiquing the brunch menu.
Speaker 1: As I reached for another slice of avocado toast, Thomas
Speaker 1: crined across the table at me. Hey, Sophia, he missed
Speaker 1: out last week. And karaoke after Pardu was legendary. Claire's
Speaker 1: version of shallow could have blown out the city grit.
Speaker 1: Claire burst out laughing, only because Jason started it with
Speaker 1: that eighty's movie song, What was it? Danger's Own? He's
Speaker 1: got hidden pipes? My fork paused over my plate. Wakey
Speaker 1: guys went out after the run. Tomas shrugged, popping a
Speaker 1: grape to made into his mouth. Yeah, the whole group.
Speaker 1: Lydia's friend dragged us to that piano bar on Oak Lawn.
Speaker 1: Claire shot me a sheepish look. Didn't he tell you?
Speaker 1: It was kind and spontaneous. Suppose we thought he'd headed home.
Speaker 1: I blinked, repling what had been told? Jason buried at work,
Speaker 1: come before none? He said he was working late. Must
Speaker 1: have left really late. Claire wrinkled her nose. He was
Speaker 1: at the bar for hours. Came up with this elaborate
Speaker 1: story about forgetting his own lyrics. He never heard his
Speaker 1: airplane joke. I shook my head. Nope, first, I'm hearing
Speaker 1: of it. Jeremy, joining late and breathless, dropped his keys
Speaker 1: on to the table, waving at the waiter. Hey, did
Speaker 1: anyone see the new faces at Cayoke? Jason's colleagues are
Speaker 1: while who was that old girl? Lastly? Right? She's hilarious.
Speaker 1: I swear half the group wants to move jobs just
Speaker 1: to hang with them. The name Ashley was a faint
Speaker 1: bell in the dark. Jason had never mentioned her. So wait,
Speaker 1: who all was there? I asked, aiming for casual. Jeremy frowned,
Speaker 1: is off counting Jason obviously at me Lydia Thomas. The
Speaker 1: Ashley bought a couple of her teine, some blonde Megan.
Speaker 1: I think, who scold us? Name that tune? Plus Claire,
Speaker 1: who broke the sound barrier. Claire laughed, stealing a sip
Speaker 1: of my mimosa. Let's not relive my broken note o K.
Speaker 1: I fumbled from my phone under the table, flicking through
Speaker 1: my dicks from the previous Saturday, Jason had messaged a
Speaker 1: photo of his laptop and a pile of documents at
Speaker 1: seven forty five. Jerked he was chained to the disc.
Speaker 1: Nothing after eight thirty p m. No mention of karaoke,
Speaker 1: no wish you were here, not even a drunk emoji.
Speaker 1: Something about it all made my skin prickle. Why not
Speaker 1: tell me it was such a small, harmless omission unless
Speaker 1: it wasn't. Claire noticed my preoccupation, putting a hand on
Speaker 1: my arm. You good, we missed you. I tasted on
Speaker 1: a smile, refusing to betray that small, childish wound. Fine,
Speaker 1: just thinking about this client who keeps moving deadlines. Sorry
Speaker 1: inside my head to day. The rest of brunch passed
Speaker 1: in a blur. I dawdled over coffee, pretending to laugh
Speaker 1: with everyone, all the while turning over the information in
Speaker 1: my mind like a puzzle piece that just wouldn't fit.
Speaker 1: Back at the condo, Jason was already out. His absence
Speaker 1: meant I could move about in peace, but the f
Speaker 1: felt charged electric by something I couldn't name. I tried
Speaker 1: on half a dozen explanations, all of which made me
Speaker 1: feel small. Did I want an apology for not mentioning karaoke?
Speaker 1: Was I being jealous of a night out? But then
Speaker 1: why had it at all? Unless he wanted to keep
Speaker 1: it supper. I considered of raising it when he came home,
Speaker 1: but I couldn't find the words that made me sound
Speaker 1: rational and not clingy. Maybe he'd just forgotten or thought
Speaker 1: it wasn't worth texting about. Maybe he wanted to protect
Speaker 1: me from feeling left out. I hated how quickly old
Speaker 1: and security surfaced. There was always a tiny part of
Speaker 1: me terrified of being excluded. The girl with her nose
Speaker 1: press to the glass for the first time in a
Speaker 1: long while. I checked our group chat history, were reading
Speaker 1: messages for any hint of that after party, nothing specifically
Speaker 1: mentioning karaoke, no pictures. It struck me as odd, but
Speaker 1: I managed to put the phone down, telling myself not
Speaker 1: to spiral. The week that followed broad a steady flicker
Speaker 1: of clues, small enough to question, but persistent enough to
Speaker 1: elude my calm. Jason announced the last minute work dinner
Speaker 1: one night, leaving after dark, seat jacket thrown over his shoulder.
Speaker 1: An hour after, he left a court as scent a
Speaker 1: different globe sharper, not the same one he left in
Speaker 1: our bathram. When he returned, he offered me a perfunctory
Speaker 1: peck on the forehead and ducked into the shower, close
Speaker 1: bundle tightly under his arm. Two nights later, as I
Speaker 1: sat on the couch shorting invases, Jason wandered in foam,
Speaker 1: pressed his ear, laughing at something I couldn't quite hear.
Speaker 1: A voicemel played on speaker for a moment, a woman's
Speaker 1: voice peeling out, oh your trouble. Can't believe you got
Speaker 1: away with that. Before he fumbled and silenced it. He
Speaker 1: looked up and hugged Henderson's annalyst, his unhinged trying to
Speaker 1: wrope me into a prank warf ignored it. I try,
Speaker 1: I tried hard. When I floated the idea of joining
Speaker 1: enough to work a happy hour, Jason texted back, can't
Speaker 1: make it tonight, deadline hell have fun. But later, at
Speaker 1: a scrolled Instagram overtakeout, I paused on a story from
Speaker 1: an acquaintance Katrina blurry let a heavy boomerang of a
Speaker 1: crowded bar. There, unmistakably in the left corner was Jason.
Speaker 1: Caught me laugh. His arm gestured animatedly toward a slender
Speaker 1: woman I'd never seen. Her hair was dark, bobbed, lips
Speaker 1: painted a deep violet. If the camera had lingered just
Speaker 1: another second, I might have seen how close they were standing.
Speaker 1: I stared at the phone, lodge crashing through me. People
Speaker 1: can change plans. Maybe he'd stopped by, intending just to
Speaker 1: say hi. But shouldn't he have said something? When I
Speaker 1: asked that night how his deadline went, he recited details
Speaker 1: about conference call that would have perfectly overlapped happy hour.
Speaker 1: Oh who's Megan, I blurted before I could stop myself,
Speaker 1: keeping my tone light. Jason paused midsip of his beer,
Speaker 1: blinking as if drudging up the name Megan. You mean
Speaker 1: from product? She's new, don't really know her. He glanced away,
Speaker 1: wiping his mouth. Why I shrugged, just heard her name up,
Speaker 1: Brench sounds like your crowd's expanding. Not really, he said,
Speaker 1: voice tight. We've just had more project crossover. He moved on,
Speaker 1: shifting to a safe topic a funny podcast episode the
Speaker 1: latest drawma in Jeremy and Lydia's cyclical relationship. I let him,
Speaker 1: too tired to bark up the same tree. Maybe this
Speaker 1: was all just growing pains. I thought. Our friends had
Speaker 1: lately seemed more tightly clustered around Jason's work crew, and
Speaker 1: more than once after a group dinner, I've been left
Speaker 1: out of a second destination, the pool hall, a roof
Speaker 1: up bar, spontaneous karaoke. It wasn't deliberate, I told myself,
Speaker 1: once you hit your thirties, energy goes to dinner, not
Speaker 1: night left. But when a few days later I met
Speaker 1: Jeremy at a small cafe, his invitation, friendly casual, I
Speaker 1: couldn't resist steering the conversation. Heard, you and Jason are
Speaker 1: tight with the new product crew, I said, as the
Speaker 1: borrows to called our names. Jeremy grinned, fidgeting with his sleeve. Yeah,
Speaker 1: he's cleue to Ashley this quarter. I swear they've got yes,
Speaker 1: b or something. Ashley's nuts, but in a fun way,
Speaker 1: keeps the whole team from burning out. Ashley, I repeated,
Speaker 1: trying out the name. She's the tall one, right, he laughed, No,
Speaker 1: that's Megan, Ashley's the one with the terrible puns. But
Speaker 1: I figured you two were already thick a thieves. I
Speaker 1: shook my head, smiling. Haven't met her. Jason's office weld
Speaker 1: is a total mystery. Jeremy gave me an apologetic look,
Speaker 1: then steered the topic to save for ground. But the
Speaker 1: sense of being left out deep and cold and familiar.
Speaker 1: On Friday night, as I scanned our credit card statement
Speaker 1: for a quarterly calendar subscription, a lie nightem leapt out
Speaker 1: one hunndred eighty six dollars at glass door, a beauty
Speaker 1: cocktail bar I vaguely remembered from a girl's night a
Speaker 1: year before. The charge was four nights prior, the night.
Speaker 1: Jason had insisted he was slammed home, huddled over spreadsheets.
Speaker 1: He'd even left his half finished Rawmen on the counter
Speaker 1: that night. Apologized and distracted me as he retreated to
Speaker 1: this spare bedroom we both sometimes used for late work.
Speaker 1: My stomach clenched. I tried to conjure up the simplest,
Speaker 1: least acused tory scenario. Maybe someone else paid and he
Speaker 1: got stuck with the group tab. But one hundred eighty
Speaker 1: six dollars doesn't buy Raman Jason started staying late at
Speaker 1: the office on odd nights. Our routine shifted. He began
Speaker 1: suggesting I spend more time with the girls, asking if
Speaker 1: I wanted to start my redding group again, or try
Speaker 1: that aerial yoga class. I'd rave the bet once and
Speaker 1: then forgotten. Babe, you work so hard. I feel like
Speaker 1: you need your own anchor, he told me during a
Speaker 1: Saturday walk, his hand grazing my hip in that familiar way,
Speaker 1: but his gaze already slipping ahead, as if hurrying through
Speaker 1: the moment. I thought our anchor was running together, I said,
Speaker 1: forcing a laugh. He smiled, almost regretful, still as I'm
Speaker 1: just a little stuck right now. You should do something
Speaker 1: just for you. The next weekend, our groups burunched to
Speaker 1: Ray went silent. There texted me around noon, feeling off
Speaker 1: to day. Let's rain check, I messaged Lydia, want to
Speaker 1: meet for coffee later. No reply until hours later, vague
Speaker 1: and noncommittal. For the first time in years, a week
Speaker 1: in felt blank and mowed. On Wednesday, I found myself
Speaker 1: heading to a yoga class in an unfamiliar part of town.
Speaker 1: Windows full of sun and earthick with incense turning onto
Speaker 1: an unmark side street park. I noticed a great sedan
Speaker 1: I've recognized anywhere Jason's. The license played ending in three Q.
Speaker 1: It was two o'clock on a weekday. This was neither
Speaker 1: home nor office, and as far as I knew, none
Speaker 1: of his clients lived here. For a minute, I made
Speaker 1: up wild explanations. He was picking up something for work,
Speaker 1: maybe visiting a sick friend. When he came home. I
Speaker 1: mentioned in a roundabout way that I'd been in that neighborhood.
Speaker 1: He looked up too quickly, Really, what for yogurt? I replied,
Speaker 1: you were there too, right. I paused, then a flash
Speaker 1: of something in his eyes, surprise calculation. Oh yeah, I
Speaker 1: had to pick up a specialty gift for your birthday.
Speaker 1: There's a monogram store there, I found online. His birthday
Speaker 1: gift ended up being dinner at our usual beast of downtown,
Speaker 1: the same place we'd celebrate it every year. There was
Speaker 1: no sign of anything monoground, no throw a blanket or
Speaker 1: silk robe or engrave bottle of gin. I convinced myself
Speaker 1: to let it slide. I tried Colin Claire that night,
Speaker 1: hoping for a reset head joke, girl talk, anything to
Speaker 1: dislodge my confusion, she answered, after a few rings, distracted
Speaker 1: and distant. You think we're all growing apart, I asked,
Speaker 1: softer than intended. She hesitated, No, no, not at all.
Speaker 1: I think Jason's distress, Sophia. He's got a lot riding
Speaker 1: on this work cycle. Do you know how he gets
Speaker 1: then almost too quickly? You're not letting work take over
Speaker 1: your head space again? Or you that's strong? But I
Speaker 1: told her no. Afterwards, I replayed the call, picking at
Speaker 1: her tone. Was it just preoccupied scheduling or something got it?
Speaker 1: I reviewed other recent exchanges. Our group chat was filled
Speaker 1: with references I didn't understand, dememes, inside jokes, random asides
Speaker 1: about glass door and Hyena hour. Nothing obviously compromising, but
Speaker 1: enough to confound me. For the first time ever, I
Speaker 1: felt on the outside of my own life. Weekend plans dissolved.
Speaker 1: Jeremy texted that he caught a coal Lydia was on
Speaker 1: deadline only Thomas replied to my Saturday morning brunch query,
Speaker 1: will have to skip got roped into family stuff. It
Speaker 1: was like being ghosted by my entire group. I stared
Speaker 1: at the window, seeing the city mapped in patterns. I
Speaker 1: no longer recognized. At night, Jason climbed into bed beside me,
Speaker 1: sometimes smelling of a sweet cologne, the sort that lasts
Speaker 1: for hours even after a shower. That entire week, my
Speaker 1: body felt alive with nose an unspoken thought rising to
Speaker 1: the surface, too dangerous to name. Is this just worp pressure?
Speaker 1: What was Jason carefully building a life that no longer
Speaker 1: included me? Then, just as suddenly, the temperature shifted. On Thursday,
Speaker 1: Jason surprised me after work, waiting outside my building in
Speaker 1: a borrowed convertible. Hegrin, holding up two tickets to a
Speaker 1: chef's tasting at the place I had wanted to try.
Speaker 1: You've been working so hard, I wanted to spoil you
Speaker 1: for once. Sorry, I've been on my A skepticism flashed,
Speaker 1: but was quickly drowned by graund The meal was decadant,
Speaker 1: eight courses of inventive flavors, wine pairings that left me flushed.
Speaker 1: Jason was attentive, making fun of the hipster portions, spinning
Speaker 1: a wild account of office politics. I felt myself slipping
Speaker 1: back into the version of us that knew how to play.
Speaker 1: To enjoy. Over dessert, he reached across the table. Look,
Speaker 1: I owe you an apology. I haven't been myself lately.
Speaker 1: This client account has every one on edge. We've been
Speaker 1: pulling crazy hours, late night team bonding to keep everyone
Speaker 1: from burning out. Asley has been a godsend, keeping every
Speaker 1: one above water. He must have seen my skepticism, because
Speaker 1: he added Asleys engaged by the way her fiance even
Speaker 1: came to a couple of team Knights, totally zerodrama. I
Speaker 1: promise probably should have mentioned that sooner. Ha. His eyes
Speaker 1: searched mine a little too open but hopeful. For a
Speaker 1: week afterwards, he was sweeter, texting me during the day
Speaker 1: suggesting we check out a new art exhibit, or joined
Speaker 1: Thomas and Clair at their trivia night. He offered to
Speaker 1: cook one evening, badly slicing his finger and sending me
Speaker 1: into a laughing fit. I am not going to let
Speaker 1: myself get stampeded at work again, he said, tucking me
Speaker 1: against his chest as we watched a dumb Superheroes equal
Speaker 1: no deadlines worth missing our life. For the first time
Speaker 1: in weeks, I thought maybe I was the problem. Too
Speaker 1: quick to worry, prone to invent invisible betrayals. By midweek,
Speaker 1: equilibrium seemed to return My anxiety out, dampened by the
Speaker 1: relief of normal habits restored. On Thursday, our social calendar
Speaker 1: brought us to a tech industry networking event at a
Speaker 1: loft downtown. Jason wasn't meant to attend, but he'd oris
Speaker 1: vpead at the last minute. I nursed to ginger beer.
Speaker 1: Scanning the crowdwold launch faces, new transfer hires, the usual
Speaker 1: sey of product managers. Jason arrived halfway through, making a
Speaker 1: bee line toward Ashley and another woman, toll striking blonde,
Speaker 1: shoulder length hair and a sleek cut. They laughed over something,
Speaker 1: the three of them standing clothes. I recognized Ashley from
Speaker 1: a LinkedIn photo, but the third woman was new to me. Later,
Speaker 1: as I refreshed my lipstick in the bathroom, I overheard
Speaker 1: two colleagues in the corner whispering, did you hear about
Speaker 1: Jason's wild night at the Marlowe? One giggled, Astley and
Speaker 1: meganintow right supposed they didn't leave until sunrise. The other snickered.
Speaker 1: I saw the photos look like a double date. Meghan
Speaker 1: was clue to his eye, then more quietly Asleys engaged,
Speaker 1: so not her. But if I had to bit heat
Speaker 1: rose up my neck. I wrenched open the door, pretending
Speaker 1: not to listen. Back at home, clarity vanished. Jason offered
Speaker 1: no details. I didn't mention what I'd heard. He seemed content,
Speaker 1: drosy with wine, pressing kisses to my neck before sleep.
Speaker 1: For an hour, I lay away, counting all the new facts,
Speaker 1: each one sharp as glass. My hands trembled under the
Speaker 1: weight of admission. Maybe the problem wasn't me or even us,
Speaker 1: but the stories I kept pretending to believe. Morning brought
Speaker 1: no relief. Jason was cheerfully bustling about the living room,
Speaker 1: feeding our Audi Ficus and singing along to an old
Speaker 1: soil track. I watched, struck by the surreal contrast between
Speaker 1: the surface gloss of our life and a cracking tension beneath.
Speaker 1: Even as he hummed, A part of me kept cataloging
Speaker 1: late night charges, friends of visions, mysterious coworkers, conversations I
Speaker 1: had never heard. I sinking, dread stalked. Every other was
Speaker 1: pleasant hour. I tried to push down the suspicions, seeking
Speaker 1: objective proof, a scolded for or sure Google calendar arditen
Speaker 1: dinners mark late often on Tuesdays and Thursdays each overlapped
Speaker 1: with a left charge or a meal receipt. At the
Speaker 1: place I'd never been On Friday afternoon, I found two
Speaker 1: yeb A rides in a row, one dropping off nearer
Speaker 1: downtown hotel, the other departing three hours later from the
Speaker 1: same address. I reminded myself not to over interpret data.
Speaker 1: In consulting life, croupaddings blended into group over nights and
Speaker 1: conference call sometimes ended with drinks that lingered into the night.
Speaker 1: But a pattern repeated, always Tuesdays and Thursdays, always the
Speaker 1: same three or four venues. Was this just how Jason
Speaker 1: disconnected or was there something intentional about the secrecy? The
Speaker 1: tipping point came that Sunday, when, as I helped fold
Speaker 1: laundry at Jason dash to take a call on the
Speaker 1: balcony phone nestled intimately against his cheek. He laughed, a younger,
Speaker 1: more playful laugh than I'd heard from him in weeks.
Speaker 1: I waited silent, holding a pair of his running shorts,
Speaker 1: listening to nothing but the clatter of cities sounds. His
Speaker 1: phone chopped as he came back in screen, lighting up
Speaker 1: with the notification that I tried not to look at Ashley.
Speaker 1: It was all it said on the preview, followed by
Speaker 1: a winking emoji. He caught me glancing and winked and
Speaker 1: saw a joke. Work stuff. Then, as if sensing his
Speaker 1: own clumsiness, he headed directly for the shower. I weighed
Speaker 1: my options, confront him, armed with what half formed theories
Speaker 1: a credit card statement. I wait, hoping that if something
Speaker 1: wasn't right, it would eventually slip out on its own.
Speaker 1: I dreaded being wrong almost as much as being right.
Speaker 1: I turned to my friends. When a texted Claire, her
Speaker 1: answers were short and perfunctory. Work's not sorry, rain check
Speaker 1: This week at yoga, Lydy avoided my eyes, stretching herself
Speaker 1: into naughts rather than making conversation. Even Thomas, usually blunt
Speaker 1: to a fault, had turned a vasive, changing subjects wherever
Speaker 1: Jason's name came up. One night, Jason offered me his phone.
Speaker 1: As I read offer recipe, he set it down for
Speaker 1: a moment to grab something from the pantry. For an
Speaker 1: instant I was almost tempted to pique. I didn't. Later,
Speaker 1: when he left it on the coffee table unattended, I
Speaker 1: nearly picked it up instead. I scrolled my own messages
Speaker 1: as if not looking could banish my doubts. The universe, however,
Speaker 1: is not so generous. One Thursday, Jason left his phone
Speaker 1: charging as he ran down to get groceries. I glanced
Speaker 1: out of habit when it buzzed to Meghan to night,
Speaker 1: still thinking about last time. The message was followed by
Speaker 1: a hot emoji and ambiguous in its intimacy. It felt
Speaker 1: as if my lung shrunk inside my chest. Acting on
Speaker 1: a mixture of dread and fidalistic curiosity, I scrolled up
Speaker 1: Hot Thudding. The thread was long inside jokes. I didn't
Speaker 1: understand suretless selfies from a hotel. Jim bound about Ashley
Speaker 1: covering for us, questions about drinks late night, eber receipts,
Speaker 1: plans made, and remaid. I scrolled further. Did you tell
Speaker 1: her one message will read time stamp two weeks ago
Speaker 1: about the new job. Don't want her to think it
Speaker 1: was chi sex, Jason had replied, don't worry, she trusts me.
Speaker 1: I'm being careful. Shaking, I let the phone drop onto
Speaker 1: the couch. Every muscle in my body screamed, run to scream,
Speaker 1: to confront him Instantly. I took a long, ragged breath,
Speaker 1: remembering Claire's evasive nun answers, the group's silence, Jeremy's assumption
Speaker 1: that I already knew about Meghan. What else was I missing?
Speaker 1: I called Claire again, voice shaking, Can you meet for coffee?
Speaker 1: There was a pause, heavy and guilty. Are you okay?
Speaker 1: I tried to stay steady. No, I know about Megan.
Speaker 1: I know Jason's been lying. Please don't pretend YE didn't know.
Speaker 1: Claire's eye sounded almost like crying. I knew he'd gotten
Speaker 1: close with some one. I didn't think he'd actually eat know.
Speaker 1: I was trying to stay out of it. I didn't
Speaker 1: want to get involved. I told him to talk to you.
Speaker 1: But but what I'm sorry, Sophia. We all thought you
Speaker 1: guys were solid. I never thought he'd do something like that.
Speaker 1: I wanted to rage at her, but the anger caught
Speaker 1: in my throat. Instead. I hung up, feeling more alone
Speaker 1: than I ever had. Back at the Condor, I pretended
Speaker 1: nothing was wrong. Jason came home late, whistling, reeking of
Speaker 1: after shape and expensive gin. I smile, made dinner, let
Speaker 1: him tremble about work politics. Every detail felt poisoned by
Speaker 1: what hernaer knew. Each sentence sprouted secondary meanings. Each laugh
Speaker 1: seemed hollow. That night, I slept in our bed, staring
Speaker 1: at the ceiling, feeling each second pass like a block
Speaker 1: of ice across my skin. What had happened to us?
Speaker 1: Had it begun with a mist run or long before,
Speaker 1: in tiny choices invisible at the time. I spent the
Speaker 1: weekend reviewing every hint and message, building a time line
Speaker 1: in my head. The affair had started months ago, It
Speaker 1: had grown bolder once Jason thought I was occupied or distracted.
Speaker 1: The web of contributors, Ashley, Jeremy, maybe even Claire, had
Speaker 1: spun out into protecting his secret, intentionally or not. By Sunday,
Speaker 1: my chest heard with the urge to finally name what
Speaker 1: was happening between us. Except now naming it meant I
Speaker 1: had to decide not only what Jason had done, but
Speaker 1: what I would do in response. And still God helped me.
Speaker 1: I found myself scanning his face for signs of the
Speaker 1: man I'd married, hunting for something to prove it hadn't
Speaker 1: all been a lie. I could not yet like go
Speaker 1: of hope entirely. On Saturday morning, the are in a
Speaker 1: condo vibrated with the absence of conversation. Jason moved around
Speaker 1: the kitchen, methodical and distant, and I moved with him, corio,
Speaker 1: gruffing small domestic routines without speaking. I poured Cyril role
Speaker 1: in the dish orsher replayed his laws wordlessly in my head.
Speaker 1: He checked his email at the counter, pretending badly to
Speaker 1: be engrossed by work replies, the blue glo of his
Speaker 1: laptop flickering off his jaw. I wondered if the other
Speaker 1: woman had ever sat here, if a laughter had filled
Speaker 1: the room when I was gone. The idea made me
Speaker 1: want to throw the bowl across the room, but all
Speaker 1: I did was he mechanical nodding. When he told me
Speaker 1: he'd have to stop by the office after breakfast, Big day,
Speaker 1: I asked, not quite keeping the dismissal out of my tone.
Speaker 1: He looked up, searching for warmth in my face, maybe
Speaker 1: finding less than he wanted. Yeah, just clean up Preppin
Speaker 1: from Monday's demos. I can grab Ramin on my way
Speaker 1: back if you want take out again. The odd thing
Speaker 1: was that if I'd confronted him at that moment, everything
Speaker 1: in me teated between needing the truth and still loving him. Instead,
Speaker 1: I nodded watching as he closed his laptop with too
Speaker 1: much care, like a magician to hiding away secrets. I'll
Speaker 1: see you tonight, he said, giving me a quick peck.
Speaker 1: He started for the door, then stopped. Why don't you
Speaker 1: plan something for us? We could do that movie you mentioned,
Speaker 1: Porto Prince or whatever. I stared at him, trying to
Speaker 1: read his inflection for any sign of sarchism or guilt.
Speaker 1: I almost said, sure, if you're not too busy texting Meghan,
Speaker 1: but I bit my tongue so hard at hurt when
Speaker 1: when he left, I crumpled into the arm chair, knees
Speaker 1: pulled up against my chest. The stillness was large. I
Speaker 1: could hear the tick of our wall clock, the hum
Speaker 1: of the fridge, traffic far off down McKinney Avenue. I
Speaker 1: checked my phone. Nothing from Claire, nothing from Jason. The
Speaker 1: only text was Lydia I'll linked to a meme about
Speaker 1: summer humidity. I forced myself to shower and dress, pulling
Speaker 1: on jeans and the battered r U N DTXT from
Speaker 1: last year's half marathon. I thought about running, maybe pounding
Speaker 1: out my frustration over seven miles of concrete. Instead, I
Speaker 1: found myself walking to the corner coffee shop order automatic
Speaker 1: double espresso, splash of oat, milk, cinnamon on top. I
Speaker 1: sat by the window facing the street across the intersection
Speaker 1: was glassed or the cocktail bar, whose credit car charge
Speaker 1: now pulse like a beacon in every thought. It wasn't
Speaker 1: open yet, as stark windows reflected the morning sun and
Speaker 1: yielding in a pique. My reflection stared back worried lines
Speaker 1: branching at the corners of my eyes. I watched the
Speaker 1: traffic for nearly an hour. Old men walking dogs, parents
Speaker 1: wrangling toddlers, couples holding coffee caps in each other's hands.
Speaker 1: I wondered if Jason had ever stood on that corner
Speaker 1: with Meghan, or if he brought her here for brunch,
Speaker 1: made the same jokes about overhyped of codo toast. Every
Speaker 1: place in our neighborhood was suddenly suspect, each breck and
Speaker 1: owning a possible compass in his secrets. Eventually I walked
Speaker 1: further north, not sure what I was searching for. My
Speaker 1: feet carried me almost on or to pilot, into the
Speaker 1: art gallery, where the running groups sometimes met for wine nights.
Speaker 1: Inside the own agreed in me with polite surprise. Hey Sophia,
Speaker 1: haven't seen you since the Winter Show. Where's Jason? You too?
Speaker 1: Used to pick out the weirdest pieces together, I laughed,
Speaker 1: too sharp, almost bitter it. Jason's working, always working, She nodded,
Speaker 1: as if they explained everything, then launched into a littany
Speaker 1: about new pieces that funky series up front. To think
Speaker 1: your friend Clare's in love with them. You girls should
Speaker 1: come by for the next opening. Joseph, my new event guy,
Speaker 1: always asks if that loud Saturday group's returning. For a moment,
Speaker 1: it felt normal, my member promises. Half meant then win
Speaker 1: my way through the gallery, letting the riot of colors
Speaker 1: assault my nerves. Jason and I bought our first adult
Speaker 1: artwork here, a print that lived above our bed, blue
Speaker 1: and gold and wild. Now even that felt like another
Speaker 1: reminder of what we'd been, not what we were. As
Speaker 1: I left, my phone buzzed a text from Jeremy. Brunch
Speaker 1: tomorrow or running, if you up for company? I hesitated.
Speaker 1: Jeremy had always been Jason's friend first, but over the
Speaker 1: years a pain and triumps had run together too. Could
Speaker 1: I trust him or was he in on? This isilent packed?
Speaker 1: I replied, Running nine, I could use the distruction. His
Speaker 1: thumbs up was instant. I closed my eyes and tried
Speaker 1: to feel relief, but my brain only cycled through the
Speaker 1: memory of Jason's phone, the hot mojis, the cover stories
Speaker 1: I found myself picturing, making the vague glimpses I'd pieced
Speaker 1: together from that instagram's story from fragments overheard at the
Speaker 1: networking event. Tall blonde, sharp jaw. How did her presence
Speaker 1: make my husband discard our world so easily? At home,
Speaker 1: Jason's jim bag was on the floor, contents half spilled.
Speaker 1: I touched the unfamiliar deodorant inside, a fresh stick of
Speaker 1: something situus and meant it was a small detail, but
Speaker 1: another piece that didn't belong, a new brand he'd never
Speaker 1: worn before. My skin prickled at the tiny betray I
Speaker 1: started to look for evidence everywhere. His running jacket had
Speaker 1: a receipt tucked in the pocket to lift ride from
Speaker 1: the high at twelve fifty four a them two weeks back.
Speaker 1: Jason had been with me the next morning, groggy, saying
Speaker 1: he hadn't slept well, that the warp drinks had run late.
Speaker 1: But why hotel, Why never mention it? I should have
Speaker 1: felt Shane at the surveillance, but all I felt was exhaustion.
Speaker 1: When Jason got home that evening, Roman in hand and
Speaker 1: eyes bright with forced cheer, I tried to see him
Speaker 1: as a stranger might, a handsome man in a short sleeve,
Speaker 1: button up and loafers, humming as he dropped keys in
Speaker 1: the bowl. He handed me dinner, pulling me in for
Speaker 1: a kiss that landed too quickly on my temple. One day,
Speaker 1: I asked as I unhangled chopsticks. He collapsed on the
Speaker 1: couch's shoes off, insane, the product team spinning out. Ashley
Speaker 1: says she's going to start charging a late night rate
Speaker 1: like a therapist. That name again, the way he said
Speaker 1: it comfortably, as if testing my response. You talked to
Speaker 1: her a lot? Huh? He looked up, surprised, then a smile.
Speaker 1: She's hilarious, literally the only reason anyone survives this account,
Speaker 1: per Fionce say, Meghan is just as nuts there, Arry
Speaker 1: May in the way he slipped the word in, as
Speaker 1: if she were just a detail surrounding Astley, not the center.
Speaker 1: My pulse thudded, Are they at the office a lot?
Speaker 1: I kept my voice neutral, breaking noodles in half. He
Speaker 1: shrugged sometimes, but honestly, I tried to keep it all
Speaker 1: surface level. You know how I hate drama. What did
Speaker 1: one call this if not drama? I smiled and changed
Speaker 1: the subject, asking about a mutual acquaintance who'd moved to Austin.
Speaker 1: He ran with the dodge, grateful. After dinner, I stepped
Speaker 1: out on to the balcony, wine glass in hand, lading
Speaker 1: the simmering summer eir press against muskin. I stared down
Speaker 1: at the city lights, twinkling as dusk fell, the distant
Speaker 1: hum of sirens and traffic a kind of white noise.
Speaker 1: I dialed Claire once, then hung up without saying anything. Inside,
Speaker 1: Jason flipped through Netflix, scanning for a series we could
Speaker 1: half watched together. Hey, come in, we can start Port
Speaker 1: or Prince or whatever that thing was he called. I
Speaker 1: joined him, curling up in my usual spot. His arm
Speaker 1: rested over my shoulders for a while, casual but distant,
Speaker 1: the touch of a man fulfill an obligation. He laughed
Speaker 1: at the wrong moments, his attention not quite in the room.
Speaker 1: I let the movie play long after he drifted off,
Speaker 1: staring at the screen and trying to quiet the questions
Speaker 1: buzzing in my skull. The next morning, Jeremy and I
Speaker 1: ran together along the Katy Trail, sunlight filtered, honeyed, and
Speaker 1: thicked through the sycamores, all golden light and sweat. He
Speaker 1: told a long story about ladys never ending hunt for
Speaker 1: the perfect apartment, then shifted gays abruptly, how's work you
Speaker 1: doing okay? Soft? I avoided his glance, focusing on my breathing. Yeah,
Speaker 1: or you know, as okay as any one. All the
Speaker 1: shifting around at Jason's firm, do you ever actually see
Speaker 1: him outside group stuff? Jeremy hesitated, then gave a little shrug.
Speaker 1: Not as much lately. I mean, he's kind of wedded
Speaker 1: to the new product launch, but I get it. He's
Speaker 1: ambitious as hell. Yea, he said, you guys have been
Speaker 1: out a couple times. You know Megan at all? Jeremy
Speaker 1: glanced over. I brows up. Sure she's around, athlete's fiancee,
Speaker 1: well partner, office politics. Everyone's got a story Megan's call.
Speaker 1: I sowed a bit. They seemed to pull a lot
Speaker 1: of late nights. He made an noncommittal sound. Comes with
Speaker 1: the territory, right, Everyone's always working, always drinking. They're harmless,
Speaker 1: though totally the fun Zone Fun's owe. My mouth tasted bitter.
Speaker 1: As we rounded the bend toward a Virchan park, we
Speaker 1: dropped into silence. The only sound how sneaker slapping the trail. Jeremy,
Speaker 1: sensing something unspoken, finally offered, Hey, if you're worried about anything,
Speaker 1: you should probably talk to Jason direct. He's not the
Speaker 1: type to hide major stuff. Just don't stress if he's
Speaker 1: intent means he cares, did it though, or did it
Speaker 1: mean he was careful? After coffee at the run's end,
Speaker 1: I thank Jeremy, promising to join another group Runson. I
Speaker 1: almost asked him to be honest with me, not Jason,
Speaker 1: but decided against it. I didn't want to drag another
Speaker 1: person into my hurt. Yet back at the condo, Jason
Speaker 1: was nowhere to be found, no note, no schedule. The
Speaker 1: sterile silence bled into every room. I sat at the
Speaker 1: kitchen island, draining my water bottle, I stinging from wind.
Speaker 1: An effort and of voiced taze to distract myself, I
Speaker 1: cleaned out the cook closet, tossing old hats and shoes,
Speaker 1: unearthing a stack of papers at the bottom of Jason's receiptshazzard,
Speaker 1: some dated recent weeks. One started to a halt in
Speaker 1: my hand, A three hundred dollars built for a private
Speaker 1: room at the marlow at the hotel my colleagues had
Speaker 1: mentioned at the networking event. I unfolded it, studying I
Speaker 1: to mis list two bottles of wine late night room
Speaker 1: service the three a m. Check out. My stomach lerched.
Speaker 1: When Jason finally returned, already apologizing for missing our morning routine,
Speaker 1: I held a receipt up. Did you forget something at
Speaker 1: the Marlowe? For a heartbeaty furroze? Mask slipping, then the
Speaker 1: familiar spin, Oh Wright Henderson needed a crash room after
Speaker 1: the off side. I got stuck, being the only sober one,
Speaker 1: drove him back, growled a quick bite, came home. Why nothing,
Speaker 1: I replied, heart racing, just cleaning up. You left this
Speaker 1: in the closet. He took it, pocketed it, and smiled
Speaker 1: too quick. You're a life civa. He'd have killed me
Speaker 1: if I lost the paperwork for expense reporting. I doubt it.
Speaker 1: Expense reports listed after midnight wine, but said nothing that evening.
Speaker 1: As if to reset the moo, Jason cooked and stap
Speaker 1: of curry corio rough to playlist, put my favor at
Speaker 1: old school wrap on the blueteth we it outside city
Speaker 1: noise rising under a pel slip of moon. He poured
Speaker 1: me wine, listening carefully, responding to my every anecdote, laughing
Speaker 1: in all the right spots. I told myself to relax,
Speaker 1: to feel safe in this version of us. But every giggle,
Speaker 1: every night kiss rang false. Late that night, after he
Speaker 1: drifted off, I opened our joint account appenscann for recent transactions.
Speaker 1: Another two lift rises, one from the office to glassdo
Speaker 1: or another to a ruin dum address Upton. The receipts
Speaker 1: always followed the same cyclical rhythmarly evening to one destination
Speaker 1: late at night, shifting locations, sometimes ending in the hotel district.
Speaker 1: Jason never mentioned these addings, never invited me, never left
Speaker 1: a trace on group threads. My own isolation thickened, filling
Speaker 1: the condo with a precious so deep I could hardly breathe.
Speaker 1: On Tuesday, Jason's absence hung like a shroud over the apartment.
Speaker 1: I worked from home, my inbucks, bursting, deadlines rushing toward me.
Speaker 1: But whenever I drifted, I found myself rereading over all
Speaker 1: ticked threads between Jason and me, between the group, every
Speaker 1: exchange now suspect. I sculled back through photos, searching for
Speaker 1: moments that look for fake, wondering when our timeline had
Speaker 1: divorsed from reality. That night, while scrubbing dinner plates, my
Speaker 1: phone bought a message from an unknown number. Sorry, if
Speaker 1: this is all, could just wanted you to know Jason's
Speaker 1: been staying pretty late at the office. Didn't want you
Speaker 1: to worry. There was no signature, but the line, which
Speaker 1: careful formal detached, felt scripted, as if written under duress.
Speaker 1: Was some one covering for him? Or did they believe
Speaker 1: he was just a dedicated worker? The guy burning the
Speaker 1: candle at both ends. That same night, on a whim,
Speaker 1: I created a spreadsheet. I stared at the grid slots
Speaker 1: for a dape time place explanation, verifiable details, outcome. I
Speaker 1: tried to plot when Megan ended the story, when Astley
Speaker 1: became his confidante, When our groups started closing ranks, the
Speaker 1: Fox tumbled out and ignorable in their accumulation of Patton.
Speaker 1: I could not dismiss. I give up at one ah
Speaker 1: am sleep, staving off only the worst of my dread.
Speaker 1: The following day, our door buzzed in the afternoon a
Speaker 1: delivery of flowers. There was a note, sorry for being
Speaker 1: so distracted, can't wait for our week end together, Love Jay.
Speaker 1: The signature made my stomach twist. Was this a peace
Speaker 1: offering or guilt management? The bouquet was wild, all bright colors,
Speaker 1: nothing like Jason's usual choice. Is more the sort of
Speaker 1: thing I'd send to myself. I texted back, thanks, these
Speaker 1: are beautiful. What's the occasion? Just because he answered looking
Speaker 1: forward to real time together, the words felt so practiced.
Speaker 1: I didn't reply that night, unable to continue pretending. I
Speaker 1: will for a walk around the block. The city was humid,
Speaker 1: Every step waited by exhaustion. My mind's bune through places
Speaker 1: Jason might beat, office, hotel, or some one else's apartment.
Speaker 1: I stopped by glass door, peered inside. No sign of Jason,
Speaker 1: but the bouncer recognized me from previous group events. Haven't
Speaker 1: seen you or Jason in a bit? He nodded, he
Speaker 1: and Megan were in last Thursday karaoke night. Not your thing.
Speaker 1: I blink, masking surprise Newark crew. I've been out of
Speaker 1: the loop, he grinned. If glad he's making friends. They
Speaker 1: looked like they were celebrating something, celebrating the words slice
Speaker 1: cleaned through denial. I returned home, shaking mine, racing if
Speaker 1: every one could see what was happening but me? What
Speaker 1: did that make me woefully blind or simply the last
Speaker 1: you know? I called my mother, not for advice, but
Speaker 1: for the steadiness of her voice. I didn't tell her everything,
Speaker 1: just the shape of my ache. She listened, offered only
Speaker 1: when you know, you know, you don't have to prove
Speaker 1: anything to any one but yourself. I wanted to believe that.
Speaker 1: I wanted, most of all, to believe it hadn't all
Speaker 1: been some colossal mistake. Friday game and went with little
Speaker 1: change except for a new small charge on our card,
Speaker 1: sixty eight dollars at a high end Vickery and bishopots.
Speaker 1: When Jason returned, I asked if he brought something home.
Speaker 1: Oh yeah, he lied, rifling through the counters, leftovers at
Speaker 1: the office. I think Megan's birth. They kick. We all
Speaker 1: chipped in, so Megan existed even in Kick. I wanted
Speaker 1: to scream That evening, I finally gave up trying to
Speaker 1: appear collected. As Jason watched TV, I paced the hallway
Speaker 1: When he glanced up. I opened my mouth, ready to
Speaker 1: demand the truth, but he reached for my hand, pulling
Speaker 1: me on to the sofa. Life's been crazy, ha, Let's
Speaker 1: escape this weekend, just the two of us. I looked
Speaker 1: at him, reading the fatigue and something else fhere hope.
Speaker 1: I wanted to say yes. I wanted to believe there
Speaker 1: was still safety, still future, still us. Instead, the silence
Speaker 1: between us stretch a canyon neither of us could cross.
Speaker 1: At some point, it occurred to me there would be
Speaker 1: no clean break, no easy confrontation. There would only be
Speaker 1: the slow, steady rasure of everything we built. Some lesserfalced
Speaker 1: the truth into the light. I fell asleep next to
Speaker 1: a man whose breathing aknew better than my own, despairing
Speaker 1: it how absolute the distance had become. The next morning,
Speaker 1: as light filtered through the blinds, I realized I was
Speaker 1: holding my breath. I let it out slowly, got up
Speaker 1: and began to pack a bag a distant case. I
Speaker 1: folded t shirts and socks into my bag with mechanical movements,
Speaker 1: barely registering their colors of fabric. Somehow I thought the
Speaker 1: ritual would steady my hands, but every scrap of cotton trembled.
Speaker 1: The air in our bedroom felt compressed, like there were
Speaker 1: too many memories and too small space. Everything reclaimed contaminated.
Speaker 1: I zet the bag shut and set it by the
Speaker 1: bedroom door. Was I really leaving? Was I just preparing
Speaker 1: back up, playing out a threat to myself? The the
Speaker 1: old Sofia, the version of me before this week, would
Speaker 1: have laughed. Surely, she'd think some winds could be patched
Speaker 1: with the fight and a long talk. But this wasn't
Speaker 1: a wound. It was a fracture, running silent and deep,
Speaker 1: and I couldn't ignore it a second longer. I showered,
Speaker 1: dress and made strong coffee, pacing the kitchen as if
Speaker 1: the movement alone would generate users. When Jason returned mid morning,
Speaker 1: fresh from an office emergency, I watched from across the
Speaker 1: living room MOK cradle close. He set his phone face
Speaker 1: down on the counter and flashed a practice smile. He
Speaker 1: look good going somewhere to day. His eyes flicked from
Speaker 1: the back at the door to mc clean jeans, my
Speaker 1: old sneakers. My heart hammered, but I kept my tone neutral.
Speaker 1: Maybe out for a bit. Do you want breakfast? He shrugged? Sure,
Speaker 1: what's up? He was trying for normal, but the question
Speaker 1: felt barb a trap for carelessness, or maybe just self preservation.
Speaker 1: We moved through breakfast like actors in a silent film,
Speaker 1: toast popping up, ex scrambling, footsteps, soft and tile. I
Speaker 1: watched the tiny stories of his body, the twitch at
Speaker 1: the edge of his mouth, the way is left knee
Speaker 1: bounced under the table, the wary distance he kept between us.
Speaker 1: I could almost see him rehearsing answers. Maybe the ones
Speaker 1: Ashley or even Meghan had helped him shape. I think
Speaker 1: we need to talk, Jason. My voice came out flat,
Speaker 1: none of the tremor I had expected. He looked up sharply,
Speaker 1: fork suspended about what I swallowed, horrid, refusing to scan
Speaker 1: for weakness, about you, about Meghan, and about why I
Speaker 1: keep finding pieces of you scattered everywhere except here. A
Speaker 1: flush rose on his neck, and he forced laughter, Are
Speaker 1: you serious right now? But his hand gripped the fox
Speaker 1: so tightly I thought it might snap. Have you been
Speaker 1: checking up on me, Sophia? I asked you direct questions
Speaker 1: before you lied. The quiet between us was unbreakable. Brudell's glass.
Speaker 1: He pushed his plate away at the scrape, jarring you're overthinking.
Speaker 1: If you have a problem, just say it. I clenched
Speaker 1: my fists in my lap, grounding myself. I saw your phone,
Speaker 1: the texts. I know what's happening with Megan. Then I
Speaker 1: know Ashley is not just some harmless cover. So yes,
Speaker 1: I want you to explain yourself. He paled, lips pressed white.
Speaker 1: The practice mouse slipped just slightly. The twitch at his
Speaker 1: browed this slight narrowing of his eyes. So you're snooping
Speaker 1: in my stuff. Now, this is what we do for
Speaker 1: a moment. I thought he'd bluffin till his luck ran out,
Speaker 1: but he exhaled all prudent's collapsing. He hunched forward, elbows
Speaker 1: braced on the table, staring at a knot in the
Speaker 1: wood grain. I didn't mean for it to get that far,
Speaker 1: he whispered. I was I was drowning. Megan was just
Speaker 1: some one who listened. I didn't plan a I cut
Speaker 1: him off. Don't do this, Jason, don't turn it into
Speaker 1: an accident. His jow clenched. I'm not saying it's your fall, buddy.
Speaker 1: I put my mug down, sharp and deliberate. But what
Speaker 1: I work I go for runs, he said, I should
Speaker 1: do my own thing I did. You could have told
Speaker 1: me if you were lonely. Instead you lied, You let
Speaker 1: our friends cover free. Did you even act them or
Speaker 1: did ye just assume they'd choose you over me too?
Speaker 1: He scrubbed both hands over his face. I asked Ashley
Speaker 1: to help. I told her I was figuring it out.
Speaker 1: I was scared of what it meant. Megan, Meghan, isn't
Speaker 1: He broke off, searching for a phrase that would make
Speaker 1: it harmless. It wasn't just about sex. She understood what
Speaker 1: I was missing. You don't what I know what my
Speaker 1: palms were icy. You really want to blame me for
Speaker 1: your own emptiness? His mouth opened, then shut again. He
Speaker 1: slumped to feed it. I haven't known how to end.
Speaker 1: I keep thinking, if I just were harder, if y' something,
Speaker 1: maybe I can fix this. But I his voice trailed off.
Speaker 1: I couldn't stop, Sophia. I kept thinking there'd be a
Speaker 1: better time. I stared at him, at the deceptionist, into
Speaker 1: every line of his face. How many times have we
Speaker 1: rehearsed honesty and his house promises made in the dark,
Speaker 1: vows to stay each other's person. I wanted to slap him,
Speaker 1: to hurt him the way his carelessness had treaded me. Instead,
Speaker 1: I could only breathe, slow and tied. He sleifft, sudden
Speaker 1: and small, like a little boy punished. Are you leaving?
Speaker 1: I looked at my bag, then at him. Right now,
Speaker 1: I can't stay here, I can't listen to you try
Speaker 1: to make this reasonable. But we can fix it, Sophia. Please,
Speaker 1: we can talk to someone, We can try it. Look,
Speaker 1: I'm sorry if I'm so sorry that I should have
Speaker 1: ended it. When I realized thou should have, He trailed off,
Speaker 1: hands covering his eyes. I found myself shaking my head,
Speaker 1: tears rising but refusing to fall. You're not sorry for
Speaker 1: what you did, yo, Sorry you got caught. There's a
Speaker 1: different I won't say here to help you sort that out.
Speaker 1: He pushed back his chair, standing as if about to
Speaker 1: come around the table, but froze midstep. Where will you go?
Speaker 1: I smiled, tight and wounded. Somewhere that isn't here. The
Speaker 1: silence thundered between us, immense and final. He began to
Speaker 1: sob in ernest, his shoulders caving in. But I found
Speaker 1: myself cold, watching as if from a distance I loved you,
Speaker 1: I said, maybe I still do, in a way. But
Speaker 1: I can't pick up the pieces for you. He wiped
Speaker 1: his face, nodding. Just tell me what to do. I'll
Speaker 1: do anything. I'll call her. I'll end it. Too late
Speaker 1: for that, I interrupted words, coming out with a rough edge.
Speaker 1: You already ended us. We stood on opposite sides of
Speaker 1: the kitchen, the gulf between us suddenly impassable. The light
Speaker 1: through all went a glared, harsh and clinical, illuminating dust motes,
Speaker 1: finger prints, the remains of a meal we'd never finished together.
Speaker 1: Do you want me to go, he asked, finally, voice
Speaker 1: rall pleading. I'm going, I said, simple and sure. He
Speaker 1: covered his face, chest heaving. There was nothing left to say.
Speaker 1: I picked up my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder.
Speaker 1: He didn't follow me. I paused in the entryway, glancing back,
Speaker 1: a gesture born from habit more than longing. He was
Speaker 1: slumped over the table, face buried in his hands, the
Speaker 1: picture of everything lost. I grabbed my keys, walked out,
Speaker 1: and closed the door with a quiet click. Downstairs, I
Speaker 1: stood on the pavement, blinking in the sudden exposure. My
Speaker 1: heart beat a ragged tattoo inside my ribs, but nothing
Speaker 1: matched the relief of simply moving of not waiting any more.
Speaker 1: I texted Claire, short and necessary, I'm safe, I need space,
Speaker 1: please don't call. Her reply was seconds later, just a
Speaker 1: string of hearts, no words. I unlocked my car, tossed
Speaker 1: my bag in the back seat, and scrawled ebbmsilistins on
Speaker 1: my phone, hand shivering, half from adrenaline and half from
Speaker 1: the shock of colder outside. A minimalist loft two miles
Speaker 1: away was available for the week. I booked it with
Speaker 1: the joint account card, a refax that left me aching
Speaker 1: with practicality. Before pulling away, I sent Jason a short
Speaker 1: text don't call, a text I'll be in touch about
Speaker 1: splitting accounts next week. I left it at that. In
Speaker 1: the silence that followed, my phone didn't bring I ignored
Speaker 1: the notifications stacking up from Jason, calls, then texts, then
Speaker 1: finally just lips as blinking in the chat window. I
Speaker 1: let them pile un touched. Hours later, keys rattling in hand,
Speaker 1: I let myself into the temporary apartment. It was cold
Speaker 1: in personal, high white ceilings, spare windows, the distant decko
Speaker 1: of terrific still no part of it bore his fingerprint.
Speaker 1: I tossed my bag near the couch and closed all
Speaker 1: the blinds, yearning for a cocoon. On her second try,
Speaker 1: my mother answered her phone. I kept my voice steady.
Speaker 1: I'm okay. Just so you know, Jason and I need
Speaker 1: some space. I'll send you an address. She didn't ask questions.
Speaker 1: She was good that way. Instead she murmured practical sense.
Speaker 1: If I needed anything, money or company, to let her know.
Speaker 1: I told her thank you and hung up without explaining myself.
Speaker 1: I'm willing to cry in front of anyone, even her.
Speaker 1: I sat cross legged in the hard mattress for hours,
Speaker 1: staring at the blank page of my calendar at the orchestra,
Speaker 1: to chaos of my new empty schedule. Jason tried again
Speaker 1: to reach me. I silenced the phone, resisting the urge
Speaker 1: to scroll through the messages. That night, I opened the
Speaker 1: air and fridge, pulling out a water bottle, then stopped
Speaker 1: pan shaking as if I'd run ten miles in heat.
Speaker 1: There was a wall of sound in my ears, voices
Speaker 1: of friends. After I didn't recognize the thrill of a
Speaker 1: city moving on without me. I thought of all the
Speaker 1: rooms I walked into with Jason at my side, and
Speaker 1: the way I'd always counted on my place in the world.
Speaker 1: They were distant, now, already belonging to another life. Lying
Speaker 1: awake in a stranger's bed, I stared at the CEI lane,
Speaker 1: feeling every inch of space, every click of pipes, every
Speaker 1: electronic where. I imagine Jason pacing the condo, shouting all morning,
Speaker 1: texting friends to mend what he could. I saw the
Speaker 1: ruins of our little rituals, the half finished crossward, a
Speaker 1: cheap bottle of nail polish I'd left by the sofa,
Speaker 1: my favorite mark, perhaps untouched in the dishwasher on my form.
Speaker 1: The running group's chat thread flashed in notification and muted
Speaker 1: it certain I wasn't ready for their voices. By dawn,
Speaker 1: sleep had come only in snatches, fretted through with images
Speaker 1: of my old home, my friend's uncomfortable faces, Jason's bowed head.
Speaker 1: I watched the sumrise paintly on familiar bricks across the street,
Speaker 1: and moved by the beauty. Even as relief washed up
Speaker 1: at the edges, I kept scanning for pain, for some
Speaker 1: intangible proof of survival. As the sun strengthened, cutting lines
Speaker 1: across the lacquered floors, I realized I was hungry, not
Speaker 1: for food, but for something I could call mine, something
Speaker 1: untouched by the collapse. I padded barefoot to the window,
Speaker 1: blinking into the light that spilled over towers and rooftops.
Speaker 1: My phone sat silent on the counter, Jason's name still
Speaker 1: at the top of my text. I stood for a
Speaker 1: long moment, then picked up the phone, not to answer him,
Speaker 1: but to scroll instinctively through the calendar app, searching for
Speaker 1: something to replace the empty bracket and my Saturday morning.
Speaker 1: There it was the running group next Saturday, nine a m.
Speaker 1: The slot I had left empty all week, now inviting,
Speaker 1: stuck in its absence of Jason's name. My thumb lingered
Speaker 1: over rs VP, breath locked in my chest, I pressed joined,
Speaker 1: then tossed the phone on the bed. Outside the city
Speaker 1: pulsed traffic engines, the hiss and rumble of a world
Speaker 1: that did not pause from my particular heart break, for
Speaker 1: all the ruptures and empty spaces. Everything moved forward, my
Speaker 1: own feetitch with the urge to move, to run, to
Speaker 1: see what waited for me on new streets. Absent the
Speaker 1: steady rhythm I depended on so long. I rinsed my
Speaker 1: face with cool water, pulled on shorts, laced my shoes.
Speaker 1: After hesitating only a second, I stepped out, letting the
Speaker 1: door click behind me. The morning ere had wait, yes,
Speaker 1: but it also held the first sting of freedom. Sunlight
Speaker 1: caught my shoulders as I started to run, not quickly,
Speaker 1: not well, but entirely alone the path a head made
Speaker 1: up of nothing but room to choose. I kept moving
Speaker 1: down the lawn, some bleach blocks, each dried, landing with
Speaker 1: the weight of something shed. The city spread out before me,
Speaker 1: free tracks, rattling, open delivery bikes weaving past half a
Speaker 1: week pedestrians, clouds rolling out of last night rain over
Speaker 1: Commer Street. It was early enough that the heat hadn't
Speaker 1: yet risen off the black up and shimmering Fritz, but
Speaker 1: Dallas was still a weak enough to make me feel visible, solid,
Speaker 1: and possibly separate from the life I had inhabited just
Speaker 1: twenty four hours before. With every block, sweat began to
Speaker 1: loosen the knots in my shoulders, or maybe just slow
Speaker 1: my thoughts enough that I could hear my own breath.
Speaker 1: Over the course of what now my body remembered running
Speaker 1: with Jason his Mark chairs when I wanted to walk
Speaker 1: miles three through five, The way he reached from my
Speaker 1: hand at the crosswalk. That phantom sensation hurt, but didn't paralyze.
Speaker 1: It propelled me to keep going. Maybe this was the
Speaker 1: only way to prove my existence to myself, that I
Speaker 1: could be afore, a person with or without him, running
Speaker 1: toward nothing, but running anyway. After looping around the edge
Speaker 1: of Clyde Warren Park, I cut through to the Arts
Speaker 1: district and let my pace settle into something sustainable. I
Speaker 1: was surely entire world could see the fresh shape of
Speaker 1: pain on my face, but nobody looked. Twice Thallas stwoamed
Speaker 1: with its own drama and betrayals in every open window
Speaker 1: and crowded coffee shop. When I finally slowed to a walk,
Speaker 1: breath catching, I found myself near the window of a tiny,
Speaker 1: bigger adjacent and I had once loved all of bread, honeyscones,
Speaker 1: cinnamon rolls, the size of dinner plates. I pressed upon
Speaker 1: to the glass, peering past the morning crowd, the smells,
Speaker 1: the chaos, the way every single table boiled with conversation
Speaker 1: and morning ritual made my eyes sting. For a moment,
Speaker 1: I was on the other side of the glass, the
Speaker 1: woman I'd been before last week. My phone buzzed for
Speaker 1: a while. Idiotic second, I thought it might be Jason
Speaker 1: telling me some explanation that would cast a magic spell
Speaker 1: make sense of the ruins. But it was clear. Just
Speaker 1: three words after a restless night and my mute of
Speaker 1: plea for space, call me please, I almost lit the
Speaker 1: phone away again. That something anger, exhaustion, the old ten
Speaker 1: enough French if made me swhite cold. Before I lost
Speaker 1: the nerve, her voice came through, quietly, words, careful, Sophia,
Speaker 1: I'm here. There was a silence beating between us, heavy
Speaker 1: as wet wool. Finally she said, I'm so sorry. I
Speaker 1: wanted to ask how you are, but I know what
Speaker 1: a stupid question that is, And she actually sounded like
Speaker 1: she'd been crying. I should have said something earlier. For
Speaker 1: a moment I couldn't speak. A surge of motion, rage, gratitude, betrayal,
Speaker 1: long included so hard I almost had to sit down.
Speaker 1: You didn't want to be the bad guy, I know,
Speaker 1: A managed voice low. It wasn't that simple, Claire said,
Speaker 1: her voice cracked. He told me and ye. Meghan said
Speaker 1: things were weird between you, or that you guys were
Speaker 1: already in counseling I believed him, or wanted to. I
Speaker 1: let my shoe scuff the kurt, watching Flower dusted bakers
Speaker 1: through the window. He was always good at making people comfortable,
Speaker 1: making them want to believe him. My words felt sharp,
Speaker 1: not quite bitter. Does everyone know now, Claire paused, not
Speaker 1: every one. Thomas guessed something was wrong. He's worried about you.
Speaker 1: Jeremy feels awful lyddy as she's ashamed. I think Jason
Speaker 1: them and slowly said he needed back up while he
Speaker 1: figured things out. I think hastily tried to warn him,
Speaker 1: but she stayed out of it too. Another pause. Nobody
Speaker 1: wanted this to happen to you, especially me, somewhere in
Speaker 1: my chest to not gave just slightly enough to allow
Speaker 1: a little erin. I don't want sympathy, I said, but
Speaker 1: I also can't hold every one's secrets any more. I
Speaker 1: felt something approaching relief for hearing her voice, and hided
Speaker 1: myself for it. I get it, Claire said, softly, whatever
Speaker 1: you do next, I'm here. If you want me to
Speaker 1: come by or stay away, just say so. I'll tell
Speaker 1: the others. She hesitated. We all love you sooff. You
Speaker 1: held all of us together for so long. This doesn't
Speaker 1: change that, I almost laughed, a hoarse, surprised sound, doesn't it?
Speaker 1: I feel like every room I walk into his split
Speaker 1: down the middle now, but ye get to decide which
Speaker 1: half ye want to stay in. Claire replied, as if
Speaker 1: it answered more than I had asked. We let the
Speaker 1: silence hang, then exchange the mutter good bye. I hung up,
Speaker 1: fist clenched at my sides, rolling the phone in my palm.
Speaker 1: By the time I got back to the loft, the
Speaker 1: loneliness had waited me felt a shade lighter, still raw,
Speaker 1: still roaring, but less capable of swallowing me whole. I shared, undressed,
Speaker 1: texting Thomas as simple, I'm okay, not up for talking,
Speaker 1: but thank you. He responded with the thumbs up and ale,
Speaker 1: let me know when you want waffles. On some level,
Speaker 1: the normalcy of it was a small mercy. By mid afternoon,
Speaker 1: I realized with a cold start that there were larger
Speaker 1: consequences waiting, things that would have to be handled. Our
Speaker 1: condo lease, which was up in two months. Should I
Speaker 1: leave or ask Jason to move out? The shared banking
Speaker 1: at now joined to all my daily habits. The running
Speaker 1: group scheduled for Saturday, a place where I would see
Speaker 1: not just friends, but living records of all my losses.
Speaker 1: A dozen e mails pinged through. There was one from
Speaker 1: our landlord, Hi, Sophia, got your inquiry. Let's discuss options.
Speaker 1: Happy to talk through suporting or transfer. Business Like a relief,
Speaker 1: if only because it didn't ask for explanations. I drafted
Speaker 1: a reply, simple, neutral, requesting a meeting for the following
Speaker 1: week to discuss my options. Maybe Jason would want to
Speaker 1: keep the condo, maybe he wouldn't. For now the only
Speaker 1: priority was distance. My mind flickered through practicalities, health, insurance,
Speaker 1: jim membership, whose name was on? Which Amazon order? I saw,
Speaker 1: with a clarity of exhaustion that we were truly in
Speaker 1: the weeds. Now, divorsal, separation details, the inevitable leaking of
Speaker 1: news through our networks, the endless question what happened? I
Speaker 1: dreaded this, always the public piece of a BIV of fail. Suddenly, though,
Speaker 1: the shame I imagined wasn't for losing Jason, but for
Speaker 1: having trusted too fully, for having let myself build a
Speaker 1: world without exits. Then again, I thought, isn't that what
Speaker 1: love is supposed to be? Two people refusing to imagine
Speaker 1: eating a door out until one builds hid in hallway
Speaker 1: and disappears. The next day, I set myself small Erran's laundry, groceries,
Speaker 1: scouting out coffee shops near the air. I sized at
Speaker 1: the running group chat entirely. Then, just before midnight, opened
Speaker 1: the thread and scrolled. There were plans for brunch the
Speaker 1: usual location, a few inside jokes about karaoke and wardrobe missaps.
Speaker 1: For the first time, I didn't feel the urge to reply,
Speaker 1: or even a shame of being left out. I was
Speaker 1: outside story now. My hands paused over the keyboard, then
Speaker 1: closed the app. Instead, I did something ordinary, the kind
Speaker 1: of erin that doesn't care whether you're shall utter a hole.
Speaker 1: I went through our Apple Family account, remove my phone
Speaker 1: and send an efficient and embellished message to Jison send
Speaker 1: request to split accounts, confirm undone and now clothes man.
Speaker 1: The reply came ten minutes later, okay, nothing else. Twelve
Speaker 1: hours later another text, can I call just to talk?
Speaker 1: I stared at it, Paul's quickening, picturing his face in
Speaker 1: the kitchen, blotchy and frightened and not entirely sorry. Then
Speaker 1: I'll begun this weekend. You can come by the condo
Speaker 1: if you need to get anything. The words felt oddly gentle,
Speaker 1: almost doubtful. I wrote back, I'll let you know if
Speaker 1: I need anything. The finality in my reply struck me
Speaker 1: like a bell. I realized I didn't feel threatened or
Speaker 1: even angry. Just dawn Saturday approached my callan the reminder
Speaker 1: of the running group pained at seven. I deliberate it
Speaker 1: for an hour, then text to Jeremy, I'll meet you
Speaker 1: at the park. Please don't make it weird, he replied, instantly,
Speaker 1: just running promise. Maybe I thought the only thing left
Speaker 1: was to show up, to reclaim just an inch of
Speaker 1: ordinary life. I dress, tying my shoes methodically, hot, raising
Speaker 1: not from dread but from a flicker of anticipate. The
Speaker 1: urged coal up and height have faded, not entirely, but
Speaker 1: enough to let me want out into air, into noise
Speaker 1: and sweat and other people's conversations out in the lobby.
Speaker 1: I hesitated hand halfway to the exit, I texted Jason, once,
Speaker 1: brief and civil, I'll pick up some clothes in my
Speaker 1: laptop Monday morning. Please leave your set of keys. After
Speaker 1: the answer came, I will. For a fraction of a second,
Speaker 1: I wondered if he would be there looking for a
Speaker 1: conversation or an attended apology. Maybe he would I maybe
Speaker 1: I would have to hear him out, but that would
Speaker 1: be Monday's problem. Katy Trail was full of runners, addiction
Speaker 1: recovery groups, teens with earbuds, bridesmaids in matching neon shirts.
Speaker 1: Jeremy stood near the fountain's bright eyed, already stretching. He
Speaker 1: waved awkward at first, then offered what I needed most
Speaker 1: to nod. I smiled the absence of pity. We started slow,
Speaker 1: letting the morning I build in the city's canyons. For
Speaker 1: a while, neither of us talked about Jason or Meghan
Speaker 1: or anything outside the flecks of calves and the pace
Speaker 1: at which your breath finds its rhythm. After half a mile,
Speaker 1: Jeremy finally spoke. You don't have to talk about any
Speaker 1: of it, he said, I know, I said. For steady
Speaker 1: and surprise, we kept running. I saw Claire up ahead
Speaker 1: of Thomasin and Lada, their faces cautious, but I held
Speaker 1: up a hand, half greeting, half warning. Claire gave a
Speaker 1: subtle wave in return, her face a confusion of hope
Speaker 1: and apology. None of them tried to force conversation. At
Speaker 1: mile three, the group funneled into a deuced bar, peeling
Speaker 1: off to order bagels and coffee. I lingered on the
Speaker 1: sidewalk as Jeremy ducked inside. The city are tasted more
Speaker 1: real than it had in Weak's dust and green and
Speaker 1: coffee and possibility. Somewhere at the edge of the crowd,
Speaker 1: I watched a couple laughing, arms tangled, certain of each
Speaker 1: other in the way people are in the beginning. The
Speaker 1: sight ache, but no longer felt like punishment. It was
Speaker 1: just another person's life running parallel to mine. For now.
Speaker 1: I checked my phone silently, no text from Jason. I
Speaker 1: went inside, ordered black coffee in a protein bar. I
Speaker 1: barely tasted. Jeremy came back up, balancing two cups. For
Speaker 1: a few minutes. We just stood there, not pushing anything forward,
Speaker 1: not trying to fix our analyze. I'm sorry for what
Speaker 1: it's worth, he said, quietly. It's not yourmestic clean up.
Speaker 1: I replied. He gave me a rueful half smile. I know,
Speaker 1: just if you want company that is in group chat,
Speaker 1: ye know where to find me. I thanked him, then
Speaker 1: finished the coffee and slipped away. Feeling seen but not scrutinized.
Speaker 1: On the walk back to the air, I passed the
Speaker 1: familiar mural outside our usual brunch spot, two figures running,
Speaker 1: bright streaks of color trailing from their shoes. I stopped
Speaker 1: tracing the painted lines with my eyes and found myself smiling,
Speaker 1: the first time I'd managed it without bitterness since everything
Speaker 1: broke open. My phone lit up again, an email confirmation
Speaker 1: from my fitness app. He've joined Saturday run Club for
Speaker 1: next weekend. I hadn't realized that click door steep earlier.
Speaker 1: I considered canceling. What was the point without the life
Speaker 1: that used to make it matter, But instead I let
Speaker 1: it be. By Sunday night, I booked a meeting with
Speaker 1: the landlord, counseled deliveries meant for the condo, and updated
Speaker 1: my address everywhere it mattered. Jason texted once more, this
Speaker 1: time only let me know if you need anything. There
Speaker 1: was no plea, no anger, no negotiation, just hollow from Maudi,
Speaker 1: the log off message of a relationship divided by paperwork
Speaker 1: now instead of affection. I answered, I'm all set, let's
Speaker 1: handle things by email. There was no reply. Settling on
Speaker 1: to the couch, I let myself finally feel the thing
Speaker 1: that had chattered me. All we can not grief, not hope,
Speaker 1: but the beginning whisper of hunger for what might come next.
Speaker 1: The city beyond my window was wide open, terrifying and
Speaker 1: full of noise, and unmistakably mine. That was the real consequence,
Speaker 1: not that Jason had chosen another life, but that I
Speaker 1: was forced to choose my own, not in anger, but
Speaker 1: in clarity. The night passed quieter than any before it,
Speaker 1: no phantom footsteps in the hall, no rustle some one
Speaker 1: else's body beside me. I didn't sleep well, but I
Speaker 1: didn't feel watched. After so many weeks of confusion, the
Speaker 1: stillness was its own answer. Monday dawned. I slung my
Speaker 1: empty bag over one shoulder and took the elevator down
Speaker 1: to street level, passing neighbors who didn't know my old
Speaker 1: story and would never have to. The sky was pale,
Speaker 1: the city loud. I took a deep breath, straight in
Speaker 1: my spine, and stepped out to hail a cab to
Speaker 1: the home that was no longer mine. Upstairs, the door
Speaker 1: to or condo stood empty. There was a faint smell
Speaker 1: of cleaning product as signed Jason had been and gone.
Speaker 1: No no attempt at poit gesture. I found my things easily,
Speaker 1: a stack of clothes, laptop, a box with my name
Speaker 1: on it, and a careful, slanted a print. His keys
Speaker 1: lay in the tray by the door. It's promise. I
Speaker 1: moved steadily, methodically packing what I needed, making two trips
Speaker 1: down to my cart, catching a lost glimpse of the
Speaker 1: rooms where our marriage had lived and died. Sunlight fell
Speaker 1: and broke patches on the kitchen table. I nearly took
Speaker 1: my mup from the dish wassherp, but decided to leave
Speaker 1: it behind. The only token of what had been intimacy
Speaker 1: now reaches to the ordinary debris of a finished life.
Speaker 1: I locked the door behind me, descending into a morning
Speaker 1: that had no place for drama, only the certainty of
Speaker 1: the next thing at the end of the block. I
Speaker 1: tossed a bag into the trunk, got in, and drew away,
Speaker 1: letting the skyline shrink in the mirror. My phone buzzed
Speaker 1: as I stopped at her red light. Declare again, but
Speaker 1: I muted the notification, promising myself i'd answer her later
Speaker 1: when I was ready. There was no urgency left, only movement.
Speaker 1: Back at the loft, sunlight spilled across the floor, dazzling
Speaker 1: and clean. I left my bag by the door, changed
Speaker 1: into new running gear, unlaced my shoes with fingers. Finally, Daddy,
Speaker 1: opening the calendar app one last time, I scanned through
Speaker 1: the coming weeks meetings, appointments, empty spaces that once would
Speaker 1: have meant dinners or plans or future running loop shared,
Speaker 1: all gaps now painful, unformed, Anne Suddenly a little bit thrilling,
Speaker 1: I took a breath, pulled up the running group's message thread,
Speaker 1: and posted see you next Saturday. No flinching, no apology
Speaker 1: for having disappeared. It was just a fact outside the city,
Speaker 1: rattled and pulsed forever, indifferent to the private catastrophes inside
Speaker 1: its walls. I stepped into the hallway, feed echoing, and
Speaker 1: pushed open the heavy front door. For once, when I
Speaker 1: started to run, I wasn't chasing anything. I was moving, deliberate, free,
Speaker 1: myself alone, and the mile stretched ahead, infinite and unwritten,
Speaker 1: belonging only to me,