Speaker 1: The rain had started just after lunch, tapping at the
Speaker 1: wide living room windows, inner hippock fits. By five, the
Speaker 1: city was rinsed, pedestrians with tight rope, walking carbadges of
Speaker 1: a shiny black run off, and brellas blooming and clothing.
Speaker 1: I love days like this, at least from inside. The
Speaker 1: hush and bright the street light switching on early. It
Speaker 1: made the apartment, with its peeling teal walls, thrifted persian
Speaker 1: rug and warm lump light, feel even more like shelter.
Speaker 1: I was chopping mushrooms at our little kitchen island sleeve,
Speaker 1: rolled up music on low hands, moving by memory to
Speaker 1: night's many was a little jet stop from necessity, mostly
Speaker 1: things we had on hand. Thursdays were always open table
Speaker 1: in theory. Any friend might tax out any hour. Are
Speaker 1: you cooking? Do you need dessert? Sometimes it was six
Speaker 1: friends talking at once, sometimes just me in pre over
Speaker 1: boxed wine. Jordan and I had started it years ago
Speaker 1: when we couldn't really afford dinner out, and it just
Speaker 1: never stopped. I was rinsing the rice when my fund
Speaker 1: sutted against the counter. Jordan's name with the beastparkle heart
Speaker 1: he'd picked popped up collect running late, don't wait up
Speaker 1: for me? Sorry three. I stared at it, phone in
Speaker 1: one's slippery hand for a moment. The kitchen got quieter,
Speaker 1: like I had stepped outside myself. The past few weeks,
Speaker 1: he'd been missing all of these nights. The excuse was
Speaker 1: the new cooperative up space Indigo House, where Jordan had
Speaker 1: thrown himself in as if it were an audition for Saint.
Speaker 1: It'd organizing fundraising murals, lighting late meetings, endless workspace politics.
Speaker 1: He'd grown vague even in his energy, returning home hours
Speaker 1: after anyone else would as bright and feverish but weirdly
Speaker 1: hard to reach. But he loved it, didn't he Maybe
Speaker 1: I was just jealous of how thorough his passion became
Speaker 1: od defensive because my own freelance calendar was mostly blank
Speaker 1: this month. The buzzer blair making me jump, mark up,
Speaker 1: light us up, its pouring Priya's voice, followed by the
Speaker 1: erratic wine of Samir and oh God, Jeroam and near
Speaker 1: behind squabbling over who brought which wine. Jordan's absence was immediate,
Speaker 1: and with it the awkward energy had grown, used to
Speaker 1: an extra beat after every greeting, the caution in people's
Speaker 1: I tried to swallow it down. There's a strange pressure
Speaker 1: to be the couple who host. You carry other people's
Speaker 1: sense of your to give them us long after you've
Speaker 1: learned to leave shoes in the entryway and finish each
Speaker 1: other's texts. But for the first hour at least it worked.
Speaker 1: I may pre open the wine. Jeram commandeered my playlist.
Speaker 1: Samyir Un admitted whether rosotto should ever include cinnamon. The
Speaker 1: room steamed up, a candlelight flickered against window glass, and
Speaker 1: as desserts sodded the rainees for the first time all night,
Speaker 1: the energy shifted only a little as dishes cleared, friends
Speaker 1: and minding talking over each other. It was Samyr who
Speaker 1: predictably miss Jordan first. Here ran tonight, we're still being
Speaker 1: the collective savior. The words were fond enough, but Samue's
Speaker 1: brow furr for an instant of flask gone as quickly
Speaker 1: as it appeared. He's buried in the Indigo launch schedule.
Speaker 1: I managed, you know how he is. Pray held my
Speaker 1: gaze longer. We need him here. You two are the
Speaker 1: only couple who actually enjoys feeding everyone. We're not feeding you,
Speaker 1: we're housing you. Some day, you'll all just move in, equipped,
Speaker 1: but a couple of others piped up, chuckling, then fallen quiet.
Speaker 1: I fearded a few more questions. What was in to
Speaker 1: go house anyway? Was Shordan becoming an art world hermit?
Speaker 1: I kept my voice light as possible, answering with bits
Speaker 1: of half remembered pr lines. Inside part of me wondered,
Speaker 1: was this how I felt for people on the verge
Speaker 1: of something ending, being the last to know what every
Speaker 1: one quietly specter? Or was I projecting Praya help me
Speaker 1: rinse wine glasses? She was always the last to leave.
Speaker 1: She lean on the counter, her round face pinched with concern,
Speaker 1: here tied up in a scrunchy. I'd given her hey.
Speaker 1: She kept her voice low, conspiratorial quick thing. So last
Speaker 1: Monday I went to the new Indigo House. Event didn't
Speaker 1: realize until later, but I spotted Jordan there. I didn't
Speaker 1: say hi, just caught a glimpse. He left early with
Speaker 1: someone I didn't recognize her. Sorry, I meant to mention
Speaker 1: my hand paws mid air class drooping, heart beat spiking
Speaker 1: stupidly in my ears. Ye, sure it was him, she nodded, thoughtful,
Speaker 1: positive he was in that blue jacket, you hate, I
Speaker 1: managed to half laugh, brushing it off as if it
Speaker 1: were a non event. He's just helping with the setup up.
Speaker 1: The volunteer schedule is a mess. Priya let it drop,
Speaker 1: but I saw something calculating in her eyes, a mix
Speaker 1: of concern and apology. We washed the rest of the
Speaker 1: glasses in silence, and she squeezed my shoulder before she left.
Speaker 1: I thanked her for the wine for the company. I
Speaker 1: locked the door behind her and stood in the kitchen
Speaker 1: for a while, staring at the phone on the counter.
Speaker 1: When Jordan finally came home, it was nearly midnight. His
Speaker 1: jacket was damp, hair curling at the edge's eyes, bloods
Speaker 1: up but wide awake. He kissed my cheek, lingered just
Speaker 1: a second, two long at the fridge, then disappeared to shower,
Speaker 1: claiming paint fumes. When I slid into bed beside him,
Speaker 1: he was already asleep, or pretending to be. I curled
Speaker 1: towards the window, listening to the slow drip of rain
Speaker 1: from the eaves, the hint of traffic rising and falling
Speaker 1: beyond our block. My mind scattered through details. Which night
Speaker 1: was that Indo goo event? Monday? He told me he
Speaker 1: was at a late planning session fixing broken track lights.
Speaker 1: Why had heif with whom had hef I kept coming
Speaker 1: back to Pria's face, the way she phrased it, left
Speaker 1: early with some one. She would have told me if
Speaker 1: it were an old friend, of familiar face. And yet
Speaker 1: maybe there was nothing at all. Maybe this was what
Speaker 1: happened to couples who got busy, who let habits slip.
Speaker 1: I forced my thoughts quiet, focusing on the familiar cadence
Speaker 1: of Jordan's breathing, the comfort of his presence beside me.
Speaker 1: The world outside blurred into white noise. Eventually I slept.
Speaker 1: It's easy, in the warm spaces of memory to believe
Speaker 1: a relationship is something you built once and can reliably
Speaker 1: return to for a decade. Always had been at a
Speaker 1: sanctuary ten years ago. Almost on a dare, I went
Speaker 1: to a pop up show, one of those non permitted
Speaker 1: late night under the fly over things. I just landed
Speaker 1: in the city, jobless, anxious and precarious. Jordan was already there,
Speaker 1: hands and paint, hair flowby laughing at a friend's joke
Speaker 1: I couldn't hear. He caught me watching and made a
Speaker 1: bee line over Our first words were about which shade
Speaker 1: of blue belonged in the city skyline. We argued for
Speaker 1: twenty minutes before realizing we were the only two left
Speaker 1: in the room. By the end of the week, we
Speaker 1: were sharing playlists and cheap banmye designing imaginary gallery openings
Speaker 1: on napkins. It never felt rushed. He was annoyingly the
Speaker 1: kind of man who remembered to check on you if
Speaker 1: he sneezed in a crowded room. He asked real questions
Speaker 1: and listened. I tell people He's whom I would have
Speaker 1: wanted as a best friend, even if I'd never dated him.
Speaker 1: We became a fixture on the circu found family for
Speaker 1: others who drifted, whose parents lived continents away, whose jobs
Speaker 1: and relationships were also new than ours. We built our
Speaker 1: open table ritual for ourselves, but it became accidentally beautifully
Speaker 1: a safe harbor for any friend looking for a foothold.
Speaker 1: Freyer and Jordan clicked instantly. Samua became the brother neither
Speaker 1: of us had. We started volunteering together at local events,
Speaker 1: street fairs, calleries, sat ups, neighborhood clean ups. Even my
Speaker 1: money was thin, we'd make enough for rent and splurge
Speaker 1: or mindful one good night each week. The apartment was
Speaker 1: a testament, not fancy, but it was every item the
Speaker 1: result of a late night argument or a lucky street find.
Speaker 1: The yellow couch, the thrifted lamp Jordan convinced me would
Speaker 1: look out deco if you don't serve right at it.
Speaker 1: The wall of poloids, ears of sicho moments, friends, badly
Speaker 1: lit birthday cakes. My parents, long separated, had built walls
Speaker 1: not out of miness betidellants, so honesty became my non negotiable.
Speaker 1: Jordan used to joke about how blunt I was in fights,
Speaker 1: but he never shut down. We were messy together, stubborn
Speaker 1: lots sometimes, but we always came back to a center.
Speaker 1: Looking back over the past few months, cracks had crept
Speaker 1: in quietly. My freeulent work had always been uneven, but
Speaker 1: this winter was rough. Client's consoled, payments lagged, whole contracts disappeared.
Speaker 1: I felt useless. Jordan would try to cheer me up,
Speaker 1: make elaborate meals, will surprise me with the neutral brush
Speaker 1: set from the art store, but he was only home
Speaker 1: for the making, never for the meals. The gallery visits
Speaker 1: became rare, even our late night walk shrank into a
Speaker 1: couple of dusty Sunday afternoons, always interrupted by some coll
Speaker 1: or errand he'd started drinking more coffee later into the night,
Speaker 1: mapping ambitious plans for the collective at our kitchen table.
Speaker 1: Pieces of his life one chair by default went un
Speaker 1: said He'd scroll through messages at one A and physically
Speaker 1: turn away if they tried to read over his shoulder,
Speaker 1: always saying, just drama, babe, nothing good, of course I noticed,
Speaker 1: But who wanted to start another argument about the thing
Speaker 1: you feared most? Thursday mornings used to be your checkpoint.
Speaker 1: We'd sit on the couch, my head on his lap,
Speaker 1: mapping groceries, swapping playlists, trading plans for the weekend. Last
Speaker 1: month I realized he dat had taking calls during those hours,
Speaker 1: quietly excusing himself to the bedroom, sometimes gone when I
Speaker 1: returned from the store. I told myself it was just
Speaker 1: a busy season. The launch would end and everything would recalibrate.
Speaker 1: But how many small habits can vanish before something essential
Speaker 1: disappears with them? After pres comment about the Indigo event,
Speaker 1: I found myself taking inventory of stories, narratives, details. Jordan's
Speaker 1: version of his days began to sound almost formulaic, hectic, draining,
Speaker 1: full of a collective druma always so non specific. I'd
Speaker 1: tried talking myself down. Everyone lies about one thing or another,
Speaker 1: specially as stress compounds. Maybe if I could just relax,
Speaker 1: trust him that the way pass. I stepped to the
Speaker 1: hope that I was being irrational, reading too much into
Speaker 1: one unfamiliar face at an art event, had forgotten to attend.
Speaker 1: The following Saturday, we hosted brunch at our place. The
Speaker 1: sky was a pale and trustworthy blue sunlight spocking off
Speaker 1: the rainsoak streets. By noon, the kitchen steamed with the
Speaker 1: Jordan to her necks in the pan, humming Samyar and
Speaker 1: Priy beckoed amiably at the table. At one point, Samyr
Speaker 1: asked if Jordan could help him with a lighting rig
Speaker 1: for an event, some installation sponsored by the Collective Seat Fund.
Speaker 1: Jordan brighton, explaining he'd spent all of Friday night painting
Speaker 1: mules at head quarters, experimenting with fluorescent under painting for
Speaker 1: the neck show. His voice was animated, but a little
Speaker 1: rush eyes darting around the table. Later, Summer cornered me
Speaker 1: on the balcony, lighting a cigarette. Did he show you
Speaker 1: the lighting mock ups. Yet I heard there using these
Speaker 1: crazy blue gels lighting. I frowned. He said he was painting.
Speaker 1: Samuel laughed. Maybe he was doing both. He and Tess
Speaker 1: ran out to the supply store. I think, sorry, no more.
Speaker 1: The name slid through me, almost unnoticed. Tests I filed
Speaker 1: it away, smiling blandly, feigning interest in gallery gossip. But
Speaker 1: a thread pulled tight in my mind. After everyone left,
Speaker 1: I found Jordan tidying the kitchen sleeves roll, humming under
Speaker 1: his breath. For a moment, he looked like the man
Speaker 1: I'd built these habits with. I wanted to ask, to
Speaker 1: simply say, why haven't I met more of the collective? Really?
Speaker 1: I had designed a lunch flyer, after all, but hadn't
Speaker 1: gotten in invite, let alone atour. Every time I raised it,
Speaker 1: Jordan would say, it's all chaos, not worth your time
Speaker 1: until it's done. There was no real reason for my exclusion,
Speaker 1: and yet he made it sound so reasonable, so devoid
Speaker 1: of drama. I wondered if I was being possessive. Partner's
Speaker 1: real partners was supposed to offer the benefit of the doubt.
Speaker 1: I had always trusted him to navigate circles without me
Speaker 1: to manage the politics of our events and messy friends.
Speaker 1: Maybe I was just jealous of his new passion. Maybe
Speaker 1: I needed desperately to let him have the space, just
Speaker 1: as I claimed mine years ago. Each time I had
Speaker 1: rehearsed confronting him over dinner or at midnight, or even
Speaker 1: half awake in bed, I'd second guess myself. Patchricka then
Speaker 1: new explanations. He just needed somewhat on me. Maybe I'd
Speaker 1: become clinging since work dried up. Maybe the problem was
Speaker 1: my own insecurity, not Jordan at all, And so I
Speaker 1: spent two days talking myself out of suspicion. Carrying on
Speaker 1: as usual. I cooked, I posted happy Thursday night friend
Speaker 1: photos on the grood chat. I kept the apartment more'm busy, vibrant.
Speaker 1: That something shifted. On Monday, I cross checked a schedule
Speaker 1: from Instagram stories and friend tags, something I'd never done before.
Speaker 1: I wasn't sure what I hoped to find. Staring at
Speaker 1: people's posts, scrolling out of habit, I spotted him at
Speaker 1: a roofed up party, half turned away, drink in hand.
Speaker 1: Next to him was a woman I didn't recognize. Her
Speaker 1: arm was angled toward him. In a way that felt proprietary,
Speaker 1: confident even in profile. Her body language was intent but
Speaker 1: not obviously romantic. Still send a charge through me. Her
Speaker 1: name tagged in a different poet Tess. I clicked through
Speaker 1: to her profile. A handful of collective event pictures, some
Speaker 1: moody art shots, nothing concrete. I tried, for the third
Speaker 1: time in a week, to convince myself that nothing was
Speaker 1: actually a miss. Work was chaotic, Jordan was busy. Tess
Speaker 1: might be just another artist. But as I was folding
Speaker 1: the laundry two nights later, I heard his fun buzz,
Speaker 1: then his voice from the hallway, soft and almost sings on.
Speaker 1: There was a lult I didn't recognize, a sort of gentleness.
Speaker 1: I stepped quietly to the bathroom door. Yeah, well you
Speaker 1: have to stop getting so new this okay, you know
Speaker 1: all cover A pause, then a low laugh, almost tender. No,
Speaker 1: it's fine, she's not home yet. The sound faded. I waited,
Speaker 1: hot pounding, and when I stepped out, Jordan's face was
Speaker 1: so carefully composed I almost laughed. He pocketed the phone,
Speaker 1: already reaching for the fridge. Who's coal, I asked, keeping
Speaker 1: it light? He shrugged, It just works. Stuff myle, We're slammed.
Speaker 1: You know how it is with the board these days.
Speaker 1: He avoided my gaze, busying himself at the counter. My
Speaker 1: mind lurched. Maybe I didn't want to know. Maybe this
Speaker 1: was a fighte borne from simple miscommunication. But doubt crept further.
Speaker 1: If it were so innocent, why hadn't I heard of
Speaker 1: a board. It was supposed to be a loose collector,
Speaker 1: not some corporate entity. I let him deflect, but a
Speaker 1: witch had been driven. The small eyes began compounding receipts
Speaker 1: left in his jacket at dinner for two at a
Speaker 1: beastra far outside our budget, a night he claimed he'd
Speaker 1: been working late at the collective. Ticket stubbs from events
Speaker 1: I'd never heard of on dates that didn't fit his
Speaker 1: supposed schedule. The biggest jowl was a credit card bill
Speaker 1: that landed among our mail. Normally reopened them together, but
Speaker 1: the one I found alone a Friday afternoon, after Jordan
Speaker 1: had left for a supposed community meeting. Among the usual
Speaker 1: grimy city expenses was a large charge at a britt
Speaker 1: cotel bar, one I remembered from a friend's wedding, an
Speaker 1: intimate place, not somewhere for group meetings. The date matched
Speaker 1: another late work night. I started to keep mental lists month, date, name,
Speaker 1: what Jordan had told me versus what I was learning.
Speaker 1: It wasn't that these details were all dumbing on their own,
Speaker 1: but together they formed a pattern, a kind of negative space,
Speaker 1: a life in silwet and what little nun worked. Time
Speaker 1: I did see him, he seemed more distracted than ever.
Speaker 1: Phoned forever in hand oils, hiding away in the kitchen
Speaker 1: under the guise of washing up. When I asked, he'd
Speaker 1: twitch on politeness. All patients esed with a tired smile.
Speaker 1: If once I'd been as confidant as other half, I'd
Speaker 1: become a sort of inconvenient roommate. Our friends picked up
Speaker 1: on it, not voicing anything, but the warmth of gatherings
Speaker 1: grew strained. Priors seemed to watch me all the time,
Speaker 1: always wanting to talk, but not sure how. Jordan, for
Speaker 1: his part, began declining invites entirely for the first time
Speaker 1: in years. Our open table when half empty, people sensed
Speaker 1: I think that the anchor had slid. Even our apartment
Speaker 1: seemed less itself, our laughter replaced by false pleasantries. In
Speaker 1: this matched silences, I spent evenings pacing, battling myself. Was
Speaker 1: this a garden variety affair? Was it money, a betrayal
Speaker 1: larger than lust? Or was I falling victim to insecurity
Speaker 1: In the naturally shifting drift of long relationships. One side
Speaker 1: of me wanted to drag Jordan into the light, demand
Speaker 1: answers beg for honesty. The other baggd for the courage
Speaker 1: to pretend it away, to roll back the clock to
Speaker 1: simpler days. One evening, I ran into Samue at the
Speaker 1: opening of a friend's studio of raw, drafty space dwantown,
Speaker 1: filled with a smell of paint and too much incense.
Speaker 1: We fell into step over tiny cups of cheap prosecco
Speaker 1: trading stories. Samuel looked at me, almost apologetic, he too,
Speaker 1: coming to the after hours at Indigo next Friday, supposed
Speaker 1: to be a member's only thing, loss of Stupid theater,
Speaker 1: but Jordan's on the list right Friday. I tried not
Speaker 1: to sound surprised. He didn't mention anything. Samuel's brows nodded,
Speaker 1: searching me. Weird and tests were coordinating the guest lists.
Speaker 1: He trailed off, tone, shifting to backpedal. Maybe their wiiting
Speaker 1: to finalize details I caught the hesitation and led at hand. Later,
Speaker 1: alone on the bus home, I reaplayed the exchange. If
Speaker 1: Jordan was so deeply involved, why had I been left out?
Speaker 1: Not just this event, but all collective happenings, all a vitations. Tests, again,
Speaker 1: always at the center, always somehow outside my circle. I
Speaker 1: searched tests on Instagram, toggling between public posts and the
Speaker 1: group's account. Her presence was there, subtle but consistent, backstage shots,
Speaker 1: tagged photos with mutual friends. Her relationship to Jordan was
Speaker 1: never clarified, but I kept returning to one image, rooftop
Speaker 1: city lights behind her hand angled toward him, as though
Speaker 1: cutting the air, just to wrist beside his arm. At
Speaker 1: the same time, the ald rhythm of our life disintegrated.
Speaker 1: Jordan was forever busy, but could never explain the detail.
Speaker 1: When I pressed, just gently, hoping not to come off
Speaker 1: as possessive, he'd grow defensive, sometimes even short. If for
Speaker 1: this board that supplies budgets, the names changed, the story
Speaker 1: lines did too, depending on the conversation. Once, when I
Speaker 1: asked about a for sculpture installation, he blinked in confusion
Speaker 1: before pivoting to something about projections. I pretended to take notes,
Speaker 1: but just felt desert. Meanwhile, the real world demanded my attention.
Speaker 1: Late payments, overdue in verses, projects abandoned without apology. I
Speaker 1: felt as though I were losing two worlds at once,
Speaker 1: the professional self I had nurtured and the partnership that
Speaker 1: had given it shape. In a moment of risky curiosity,
Speaker 1: I started picking through Jordan's jacket pockets before tossing them
Speaker 1: in the laundry. Receipts fell off Bestros Galleries, and yubertrip
Speaker 1: to an address near Tess's apartment. As I later learned
Speaker 1: via simple Google search. I flinched as I realized I
Speaker 1: was snooping, but justified that he was, after all, hiding something,
Speaker 1: or I was inventing something to distract from my own failings.
Speaker 1: It depended which night you asked. The mutual friends, who
Speaker 1: once orbitted our table began to drift. Preacame by less often,
Speaker 1: always with a nervous energy. Geremen near grew distant, their
Speaker 1: tacks increasingly laced with plathitudes. How putuor wealt rather than
Speaker 1: the familiar save me a seat. Even Samuir was cagy
Speaker 1: checking in less. One night, as we shared a late
Speaker 1: dinner rare thing any more. I finally broke the silence.
Speaker 1: Can I ask you something? My voice shirk a thin
Speaker 1: thread of honorability. Jordan glanced up, slicing into a roasted
Speaker 1: sweet potato. Of course, I steadied myself last month Hotel
Speaker 1: bar charged and Pria said she saw you leaving with
Speaker 1: a woman at Indigo House. I just want to know
Speaker 1: if there's something I'm missing. He froze for half way
Speaker 1: to his lips. Then malocha seriously. He sounded wounded, even
Speaker 1: as his eyes darted away for a moment. You know
Speaker 1: how much pressure Tess is under. She's new our treach Lee.
Speaker 1: I guess there's been drama. I've been covering for her,
Speaker 1: figuring you didn't need this dress. Honestly, it's work, not
Speaker 1: whatever Priya thinks she saw. I waited, searching his face
Speaker 1: for any tell. There was no apology in his tone,
Speaker 1: just attired heaviness, a kind of resignation. I would have
Speaker 1: told you if there was something real. I know you
Speaker 1: hate drama. I've performed in my stomach half conviction, half humiliation.
Speaker 1: For a week. He was more attentive than he'd been
Speaker 1: in months. He brought home flowers cook my favorite risotto,
Speaker 1: even let his phone stay face up on the counter.
Speaker 1: He returned to Old Padden's morning coffee, joining me for
Speaker 1: gallery strolls. Samer texted again inviting us out together, and
Speaker 1: Jordan insisted we go for a few days. I thought,
Speaker 1: maybe this is it. Maybe I just got spun out
Speaker 1: by my own worry. Then, on a women irrational kneeling
Speaker 1: which has stopped by Indigo House late after a client call,
Speaker 1: I told myself I'd just beg in finally see what
Speaker 1: all the secrecy was for. It was dusk, city air,
Speaker 1: muggy and translucent after a fresh rain. The street in
Speaker 1: front of Indigo House wash pale, beneath sodium bulbs. The
Speaker 1: front entrance was locked, but the side window was glossed
Speaker 1: with condensation. Led in a slice of the main room.
Speaker 1: I stood on tiptoe, catching a half obscure view through
Speaker 1: a gap in the makeshift cuttings. Inside, Jordan and Tess
Speaker 1: sat close together on folding chairs, the table littered with
Speaker 1: sketchbooks and crumbs between them. It was not the scene
Speaker 1: of frantic colleagues and crisis. It was intimate. Tess's hand
Speaker 1: rested on top of his. Their faces turned toward each
Speaker 1: other in a bubble of private conversation. They were speaking softly, smiling,
Speaker 1: Hearing nothing, I could still read something familiar in the
Speaker 1: tilt of his shoulder. My world contracted to the sound
Speaker 1: of my own breath. Neither of them noticed me, frozen
Speaker 1: on the sidewalk, as of passing cyclists splashed water at
Speaker 1: my shoes. I stood there far too long, unable to move,
Speaker 1: until tesseline forward and Yes, unmistakably squeezed his hand, her
Speaker 1: smile growing larger, as though sharing a secret. Only the
Speaker 1: two of them understood. When I finally stepped away from
Speaker 1: the window, I was numb. I walked home slowly through
Speaker 1: Puddle's shoes, ruined, feeling as though I'd stepped behind a
Speaker 1: film of glass that nothing could reach. Drue Jordan texted
Speaker 1: to say late night, finishing a grant proposal, hum after eleven,
Speaker 1: I didn't respond. At home, the apartment felt hollow. I
Speaker 1: changed into pajamas, but sleep wouldn't come. The images reaply
Speaker 1: over and over. The waiter, hands fit together, The privacy
Speaker 1: of the smiles. Was this what I had been scared of,
Speaker 1: proof not just of a lie, but of a new
Speaker 1: world forming while mine dissolved. I didn't know what to do.
Speaker 1: I gave myself one night to grieve silently before telling Priya.
Speaker 1: Her reaction was immediate, real anger on my behalf, but
Speaker 1: also measured restraint. If you confront him now, you'll just
Speaker 1: get moral lies, she said, squeezing my hands. Find out
Speaker 1: everything first, don't give him away. Out with half truce.
Speaker 1: I spent the next days in a state half way
Speaker 1: between detectave and cohost, going through digital traces, looking for
Speaker 1: an inflection point, some logical in point of my suspicion.
Speaker 1: I checked our shared calendar, scored through messages, everything mundane,
Speaker 1: Yet there were gaps. Every time Jordan arrived late for dinner,
Speaker 1: vanished to me, fundos test his social medium marked or
Speaker 1: present at the same event. The likes, comments, inside jokes
Speaker 1: were all there. If you looked, what had once been
Speaker 1: the steady rhythm of our couple had naphulsed with anxiety.
Speaker 1: I woke up dreading the look in his eyes, never
Speaker 1: quite sure if it was guilt or simple fatigue. At
Speaker 1: an autfair the following week, I approached him in a crowd,
Speaker 1: watching from a safe distance as he mingled with tests.
Speaker 1: The apoor was palpable with sperjukes, share glances, test, watching
Speaker 1: me with something like suspicion when their eyes met her
Speaker 1: as lingered on mine tertoril and quietly defiant. I wanted
Speaker 1: to walk away, but pre guided me through conversation. But
Speaker 1: a galleries until my poles returned to normal. Home became
Speaker 1: a minefield. Jordan would rush in, dump his back, vanished
Speaker 1: to the shower or bedroom, barely making eye conduct. Some
Speaker 1: nights he tried making dinner, asking perfunctory questions about my day,
Speaker 1: but conversation quickly twisted into sarcasm or shallow jokes. If
Speaker 1: I pressed, but work, he answered with prosists notes, a
Speaker 1: long day, editing the promo video, test is late with
Speaker 1: her grand notes, committees impossible, no emotional color, no connection.
Speaker 1: My worst fear shifted from his he cheating too, as
Speaker 1: he built another life where I don't even belong. It
Speaker 1: was late one night, alone on the living room couch
Speaker 1: that I found confirmation. Jordan's laptop passward and changed sat
Speaker 1: open on the table. I knew I was crossing a line,
Speaker 1: but at this point felt justified, like I owed myself
Speaker 1: the truth. Whatever it was. The browser history was bland
Speaker 1: docks spreadsheets event calendars, but in the email client to
Speaker 1: draft title and titled test chekins stare back at me.
Speaker 1: I opened it for a shallow The thread span weeks
Speaker 1: blurred lines between logistics and intimacy. At first, strictly business
Speaker 1: stead lined feedback on her event proposals, but as the
Speaker 1: emails went on, they softened, inside jokes, late night notes,
Speaker 1: even a few poems Jordan had shared in past years
Speaker 1: only with me. She wrote, I worry you'll get sick
Speaker 1: of the drama, and later would she ever suspect the
Speaker 1: worst was recent to test fretting, I hate hiding. We
Speaker 1: should talk about next steps, and Jordan replying, Malika believes
Speaker 1: we're just close friends. She knows nothing. I scrolled hand
Speaker 1: shaking to find lines about meetings and hotel bars, Excuses
Speaker 1: spun for both sides. My name appeared only as an obstacle,
Speaker 1: something to work around, not as a partner, but as
Speaker 1: a problem. It gutted me. All the details, the receipts,
Speaker 1: the private phone calls, the pattern of absence snapped into perfect,
Speaker 1: horrifying focus. I closed the laptop, every muscle tight with
Speaker 1: rage and grief. It wasn't just betrayal. It was conspiracy,
Speaker 1: a collusion of silence, the way even our closest friends
Speaker 1: had been edged out or simply kept quite out of
Speaker 1: discomfort or misplaced loyalty. The realization's done worst. Everyone close
Speaker 1: to me seemed to suspect, but nobody had told me
Speaker 1: the full truth. Priya had tried, sam Mer had hedged.
Speaker 1: The world I thought we'd made together was rooted less
Speaker 1: in trust, on more in the inertire of half believed stories.
Speaker 1: As I lay there, watching the city flicker in the
Speaker 1: half dark of early morning, I finally stopped blaming myself.
Speaker 1: The lies were not my doing, nor my responsibility to rationalize.
Speaker 1: The only question left was how much longer to let
Speaker 1: this fast go on, and whether it was possible to
Speaker 1: ever trust what I saw not just in Jordan, but
Speaker 1: in the reflections and routines of my own life, and
Speaker 1: if the answers would cost me not just my marriage,
Speaker 1: but the chosen family would build around it. They say
Speaker 1: drug sharpens your senses, but I moved through that week's
Speaker 1: mudged at the edges, untethered the world outside. We focused
Speaker 1: a city, scoff sidewalks, routines on automatic Emil's pinion answered,
Speaker 1: But inside every surface every science, prickled with the unspoken.
Speaker 1: My body remembered, stomachtight when Jordan entered, lungs constricting at
Speaker 1: every phone vibration, a dull ake under my ribs of dinner,
Speaker 1: Sometimes catching myself in the whole mirror, I registered the
Speaker 1: weary look in my own eyes, a stranger poise for impact.
Speaker 1: I started waking early, before even the city's garbage trucks
Speaker 1: began their slow crawl. Creeping around our clotted apartment. I'd
Speaker 1: find reminders of what used to be normal. Tangle dishes
Speaker 1: in the sink, the scent of Jordan's after shi of
Speaker 1: lingering in the bathroom, a faded shopping list in my
Speaker 1: handwriting on the fridge. It used to be we'd split
Speaker 1: the days by small rituals, a playlist in the morning,
Speaker 1: playlist exchanged at night, even small jerks scrolled and dry
Speaker 1: rays on the bathroom mirror. Now, my attempts to resurrect
Speaker 1: that normalcy only made the forge sharper. Jordan's absence began
Speaker 1: folding in on itself. If he hadn't left early for
Speaker 1: the collective, he returned late, his energy a flicker of
Speaker 1: itself self, too polite, too eager to ask about my day,
Speaker 1: as if reading from a manual for how couples behave.
Speaker 1: He inquired after clients he couldn't possibly have remembered, noticed
Speaker 1: colors I'd painted my nails, but his eyes never quite
Speaker 1: met mine. We'd brush hands reaching for keys in the
Speaker 1: entry away, and I'd almost finch from the contact, surprised
Speaker 1: by how much of my celfe was holding in. I
Speaker 1: carried distension straight into Friday. That day, I forced myself
Speaker 1: out a solo gallery crawl, a favor to a friend
Speaker 1: who needed a design consult for his poorster. I thought
Speaker 1: the work might distrapt me, that stepping into the noise
Speaker 1: and pulsating color of new canvasses would drown out the
Speaker 1: internal static of conjured evidence and imagined conversations. But it didn't.
Speaker 1: I kept seeing couples hands pressed together in painters taped
Speaker 1: blue light, or I'd catch glimpses of giggling volunteers, the
Speaker 1: easy short hand of shared intention. Jealousy pressed against my temples,
Speaker 1: not for test herself, but for the ease and excitement
Speaker 1: that now belonged to some one somewhere else. I left early,
Speaker 1: circling back fire the market and picking up fresh bread
Speaker 1: in the last of the seasoned stone fruit. When I
Speaker 1: came in the apartment was still Jordan's shoes, paint splattered,
Speaker 1: expensive word and odd angle by the door. I called out,
Speaker 1: not really expecting an answer. In the kitchen, I found
Speaker 1: him hunched over his phone screen glowing a sharp blue.
Speaker 1: He startled more than I expected, blinking up as though
Speaker 1: surprised to see me in our own kitchen. Hey, you're
Speaker 1: home early. I lifted the shopping bag bread and plumed.
Speaker 1: Thought I'd tried that tough recipe I mentioned. He gave
Speaker 1: a thin, performative smile. Sounds great. Want company while you cook?
Speaker 1: The question was wrong. Jordan had always automatically joined in,
Speaker 1: either for the music or to lock jam from his knuckles.
Speaker 1: Now he waited to be invited. A telegraphing caution, needing
Speaker 1: permission only if you're not on deadline, I replied, softening
Speaker 1: my voice. No, it's he caught himself. I can take
Speaker 1: a break. He slid his phone into his pocket too, casually,
Speaker 1: screen face down. We made small talk timelines for his
Speaker 1: mural when he be around next week, hints at a
Speaker 1: proposal he claimed was due. Each topic stay distant polite.
Speaker 1: I asked about tess, keeping my tone perfectly level, house
Speaker 1: the new art, richlid, handling things. He shrugged, eyes flicking away.
Speaker 1: She'll learn a lot of personalities on the board. It
Speaker 1: was the same evasive territory we didn't linger. When sam
Speaker 1: Are called, Jordan lit up, even his posture relaxed. I
Speaker 1: pretended not to mind, busy myself smashing plums and flower,
Speaker 1: but my hands moved with a practiced slowness. Ears turned
Speaker 1: to the low rhythm of his voice in the next room.
Speaker 1: Later that night, in bed, the divide between us ballooned.
Speaker 1: Jordan drifted off after a perfunctory good night. I watched
Speaker 1: the outline of his shoulders, the stuttered rise and fall
Speaker 1: of breath that had always soothed me into sleep. I
Speaker 1: didn't trust myself to reach for him, unsure if my
Speaker 1: touch would be a lifeline or an accusation. My dreams
Speaker 1: that night looked through a monted image's shadows behind canvas screens,
Speaker 1: laughter and muffled rooms, a hand clutching another, not mine.
Speaker 1: I woke clutching my pillow, the taste of copper in
Speaker 1: my mouth. Sunlight against the curtains was blunded and certain.
Speaker 1: I texted Priyo one short line. Can we meet need air?
Speaker 1: We messed a new cafe in our old neighborhood, half
Speaker 1: way up a hillyside street that flooded with jasmine in
Speaker 1: late summer. Prayer spotted me first, waving with exaggerated drama,
Speaker 1: her attempt to force daylight onto the mood. She didn't
Speaker 1: ask what was wrong at first. She always waited for
Speaker 1: me to spill, relishing the gentle ritual of letting questions
Speaker 1: and fro We sat sipping too hot coffee. I showed
Speaker 1: her the photo had snapped of tests elbow to elbow
Speaker 1: with Jordan from the rooftop posed. Priya scrawled her face
Speaker 1: top with angry recognition. So this is the one. She's everywhere,
Speaker 1: I said, barely a bubble whisper. Look at their emails.
Speaker 1: I showed her as green shut. Hi forwarded myself just
Speaker 1: enough to prove I wasn't delusional, not the whole thread.
Speaker 1: She didn't recoil. She gripped my hand, eyes wide. This
Speaker 1: is more than a work crash, Malick, She murmured, you
Speaker 1: need to know the rest before you do anything. Rush,
Speaker 1: I look down, shame burning. Does everyone know pri hesitated?
Speaker 1: We all wonder, but we told ourselves. You know, first
Speaker 1: I laughed brittle, I'm not even Second, she squeezed my hand.
Speaker 1: He's pretending nothing's changed. That's its own answer. Don't you
Speaker 1: think we talked in circles? The cost of doubt, The
Speaker 1: way men like Jordan could keep a dozen truths parallel,
Speaker 1: The slow violence of being managed rather than included. Pre
Speaker 1: offered to stake out into your house with me her
Speaker 1: idea of humor, but also a genuine offer. I declined,
Speaker 1: I'm sure if I was ready for proof beyond what
Speaker 1: I'd already seen on my way back past the shop.
Speaker 1: Shuddering for the day, I turned over how my will
Speaker 1: had become so small, how my self respect had become
Speaker 1: an audience for his half thought alibis, if I'd lost
Speaker 1: faith in him. What frightened me more was losing faith
Speaker 1: in my own judgment. Saturday, Jordan announced at breakfast that
Speaker 1: he'd be out laid again inventory at the collector, planning
Speaker 1: for the next grand cycle. I stared at my coffee,
Speaker 1: feeling something inside me break free. Why can't I ever visit,
Speaker 1: I blurted, He paused, maybe through tying his shoes. I
Speaker 1: just want to keep it separate until the launch. Mess
Speaker 1: is over. It's chaos in there. I want you to
Speaker 1: see it when it looks like something. But you let
Speaker 1: Samir in, I pointed out softly. No accusation, just fact.
Speaker 1: He frowned. Sammer's working on the lighting. It isn't the same,
Speaker 1: not even a tor I pressed Jordan's jaw. Sat, why
Speaker 1: are you picking a fight about this? I said, when
Speaker 1: it's ready, I want you to see everything. I don't
Speaker 1: understand why you're making this an issue. He tried to
Speaker 1: cut the conversation short by fussing over his messenger back
Speaker 1: and spooling cords, patting his pockets with exaggerated purpose. All right, fine,
Speaker 1: I said quietly. I'll let him believe the argument was over,
Speaker 1: but in my mind the boundaries were shifting again. He
Speaker 1: left without kissing me goodbye. The dabler passed, but I
Speaker 1: made a plan around sunset. I texted Zamer to see
Speaker 1: if he wanted to grab a drink. He replied immediately, Relie,
Speaker 1: it seemed. We met at an ugly little bar two
Speaker 1: blocks from my place. For a while. We talk about
Speaker 1: everything but the real subject New installations, the last big
Speaker 1: party of the season shows. Priyo wanted to cuate only
Speaker 1: after a couple drinks, did Samir between zips brun up Jordan,
Speaker 1: how's he holding up? Samurr asked, voice turned down low, busy,
Speaker 1: I replied, collective seems to occupy every cell of his
Speaker 1: body these days. He gave an empathetic shrug of pausing.
Speaker 1: Heil mellowa after launch. I mean he always does this, always,
Speaker 1: I felt my voice titan, bracing for more information than
Speaker 1: I could interpret. Yes, Samuel looked regretful, then offered a
Speaker 1: gentle smile. He gets swept up in something, gets almost evangelical.
Speaker 1: He did it with that street clean up or found
Speaker 1: in the open table, even with you. But it's always
Speaker 1: just for a while. He'll come home eventually. There was
Speaker 1: something in the way he said with you that left
Speaker 1: me prickling. Would I just another fixation to Jordan? At
Speaker 1: one point a project, an obsession, then at a fault.
Speaker 1: I shifted the conversation, but Samuel was sharper than he acted.
Speaker 1: He and Tests work well together. She's oddly competitive, though
Speaker 1: I don't think she likes me much. That hanging implication
Speaker 1: again that Tess had staked some claim and Jordan let her.
Speaker 1: I didn't ask for details. Some questions I realized I
Speaker 1: already knew the answers to I just hated the answers
Speaker 1: so much that I wanted to be contradicted. On my
Speaker 1: way home, I cut through the design district, glancing at
Speaker 1: shop windows. The world reflected in expensive glass versions of
Speaker 1: me distordered, walking through another's curated life. I wrapped my
Speaker 1: cardigan tighter around myself. Even the city felt foreign, complicit.
Speaker 1: That evening, making dinner only for myself, I let our
Speaker 1: Rinton go. An answered as Jordan's name flashed on the screen.
Speaker 1: He left no voice. Mel Sunday morning, the apartment was cold.
Speaker 1: I was up early, listless, padding befort into the kitchen.
Speaker 1: I nearly jumped when I heard Jordan's keys crape the lock.
Speaker 1: He hadn't texted. He be out all night. His hair
Speaker 1: was must jacket wrinkled, and the circles beneath his eyes
Speaker 1: were dark. He looked startled to see me. Oh, couldn't
Speaker 1: sleep at the collective, he said, crashed on the couch
Speaker 1: with a couple of the crew. Sorry, it should have
Speaker 1: told you. His tone was too measured. I could almost
Speaker 1: see him weighing my reaction, preparing robuzzles to accusations. I
Speaker 1: hadn't yet voiced. I poured him a cup of coffee,
Speaker 1: watching his hand shake as he fished for creamer. Who
Speaker 1: else stayed over? I asked, careful. He listed three names,
Speaker 1: none tests. I didn't press. My silence seemed to unsettle him.
Speaker 1: Jordan retreated to the shower, humming tonously too loudly. While
Speaker 1: he was in the shower, I checked his jacket pockets
Speaker 1: for a million time. A receipt from a late night
Speaker 1: liquor store. Nothing meaningful, but tucked in the lining a
Speaker 1: small sketch, not his style, dated a woman's face, lines
Speaker 1: hurried in fears, signed the tea. I replaced it carefully,
Speaker 1: Feeling like a spy in my own home, I made
Speaker 1: myself breakfast, then forced myself out to walk and emotion
Speaker 1: to avoid the oppressive inertness of our living room mid day,
Speaker 1: pre cold. While I was doddling by River's Edge, her
Speaker 1: voice was marshmallow soft but urgent. I did a little digging,
Speaker 1: she confessed, without preamble to test. She's not just of
Speaker 1: free chlad. She and Jordan theyre running almost every side product.
Speaker 1: A handful of our friends noticed they are always at
Speaker 1: the bar after meetings, leaving together in Newbert, Sorry, Malik.
Speaker 1: My mind wormed through the logistics. What health fared into
Speaker 1: their private gravity? How many many times had I dismissed
Speaker 1: others hesitation as miracle incidents. I'm scared to know any more.
Speaker 1: I admitted, that's valid. Prey replied, but you're not imagining it,
Speaker 1: You're not crazy. Nobody here thinks that her words didn't comfort,
Speaker 1: but I clung to them. By Monday, I'd been subsisting
Speaker 1: on adrenaline and fruitless hope. I spent the day in
Speaker 1: half measures, where calls made distractedly, design files left and sent,
Speaker 1: gallery deadlines missed. That afternoon, an email pinged the joint
Speaker 1: account subject line payment confirmation for Indigo house members. After party,
Speaker 1: I opened, at heart thudding the receipt list to Jordan's host.
Speaker 1: The plus one's name wasn't mine, I stared. Marie blinked,
Speaker 1: as if the letters might blink to and re arrange themselves.
Speaker 1: There she was tescer err no more question of work,
Speaker 1: only on necessary business. All that remained was intention and concealment.
Speaker 1: I call priyor no answer, typed a message, deleted it.
Speaker 1: I walked around the apartment, touching objects as if they
Speaker 1: could tell me something new. The books Jordan and I
Speaker 1: had debated, the worn and patch on the couch where
Speaker 1: we spent slow mornings, the arts supplies, still letter in
Speaker 1: the kitchen table. The life we've constructed didn't so much
Speaker 1: collapse as become translucent, revealing the scaffolding beneath, what was performed,
Speaker 1: what was real, what I wish had been enough. That night,
Speaker 1: over dinner, I couldn't keep up the act. I watched
Speaker 1: Jordan's slice into his greens, methodical and unhurried, as if
Speaker 1: our life wasn't shuddering on its hinges. I wanted to
Speaker 1: ask everything at once, why he'd lied, how long it
Speaker 1: had been, what about me had become intolerable? But the
Speaker 1: words clogged up, irretrievable. Instead, I heard myself say, you
Speaker 1: seem tired. He looked up, expression weary, not sleeping. Well,
Speaker 1: the collective, you know, I nodded, But the oldest, the
Speaker 1: intimacy rising between voice's questions was gone. He cleared his throat.
Speaker 1: You don't have to wait up any more, you know,
Speaker 1: if it's a late night, I'll just crush There no
Speaker 1: sense disrupting, you'll work. The unspoken was clearer than any confession.
Speaker 1: His absence was now kindness, not an offense, or so
Speaker 1: he'd have it. After dinner, as he loaded the dishwasher,
Speaker 1: I heard his phone ding twice, then vibrate three times
Speaker 1: in an oddly coded sequence. He glanced at the screen
Speaker 1: and smiled ons of consciously wide en then saw me
Speaker 1: watching Instantly. The smile felt replaced by the closed mask
Speaker 1: of fatigue. You okay, he asked, Too late, fine, I lied,
Speaker 1: I turned away before my anger could show. That night,
Speaker 1: I emailed myself copies of every screen shot and document.
Speaker 1: I gathered receipts, calendar discrepancies, the email thread with Tess,
Speaker 1: the party invite that bore proof of their closeness. The
Speaker 1: work of collating evidence felt mechanical, as if confirming that
Speaker 1: I hadn't been hallucinating the small final mercy before the
Speaker 1: inevitable unraveling. In those hours busy myself with the facts,
Speaker 1: the hurt receded. The practicalities felt soothing, and underneath a
Speaker 1: strange icy clarity. I had seen the truth, and the
Speaker 1: truth would not become less true if I waited a
Speaker 1: day or a month. I denied it to my dying breath.
Speaker 1: I went to bed long after Jordan, lying awake beside
Speaker 1: the ribbic rise and fall of his back, familiar on
Speaker 1: alien all at once. Tomorrow, I told myself something had
Speaker 1: to break, and whatever came next would be bitter, but
Speaker 1: at least undeniably real. The next morning, I woke before
Speaker 1: the alarm, my skin cold, airless. I lay their eyes
Speaker 1: open to the faint door in street light, bending around
Speaker 1: the curtains, listening for some sign of the world shifting,
Speaker 1: the thrum of the fridge, the scatter of pigeons on
Speaker 1: the cell, the distant breaks of a delivery truck. I
Speaker 1: kept expecting some event, some drama, some signal that to
Speaker 1: day was not just another day knotted with ordinary dread.
Speaker 1: I rolled out of bed silently, careful not to disturb
Speaker 1: the smooth expanse of sheets Jordan occupied. He didn't move,
Speaker 1: just Cat's sleeping face angled away. That in itself was new.
Speaker 1: Usually by six thirty he was up, clattering in the kitchen,
Speaker 1: radio on coffee drips, stuttering newsplasting, full of plans for
Speaker 1: the day to day. There was a remarkable stillness, as
Speaker 1: if the weight of what I finally cataloged, every ugly
Speaker 1: thread hard pressed a hush through the apartment. I left
Speaker 1: him sleeping and took my laptop to the far end
Speaker 1: of the kitchen, trying to sit coffee, but mostly just
Speaker 1: staring at the tiles, phone in hand, messages and scent.
Speaker 1: It felt as if every surface in our home was
Speaker 1: complicit and MoG's bought for another couple's anniversary. The batter
Speaker 1: smash balls from open table dinners, even the bat of
Speaker 1: clock above the stove second hand taking out the world's
Speaker 1: slowest countdown. I pissed, no appetite, no plan, except the
Speaker 1: certainty that something had to break open. A rising certainty
Speaker 1: kept me moving. I could not keep living alongside the sham.
Speaker 1: I needed air, to hear another voice without letting myself hesitate.
Speaker 1: I texted Prayer, come over. I need back up to day.
Speaker 1: She called me instantly, her voice off but urgent. You
Speaker 1: are right, Malika, No, can you. I don't want to
Speaker 1: do this alone. I'll bring crossus, she said, the coat
Speaker 1: for I'm coming. We're doing this now. Within twenty minutes,
Speaker 1: she was at the door, hair wild, coat over pajamas,
Speaker 1: eyes assessing me the way only she could, looking for
Speaker 1: signs of damage and determination of haunts. I let her
Speaker 1: in wordlessly, A silent motion to the couch. I didn't
Speaker 1: need to tell her, but I did any way. Showed
Speaker 1: her the screen shots, the thread, the receipt, my hands
Speaker 1: trembling too much to scroll smoothly. Priya said nothing for
Speaker 1: a few minutes, letting the anger ebb and rise between us.
Speaker 1: I could feel her wanting to fight for me, but
Speaker 1: also letting me gather my own resolve. You're sure you
Speaker 1: want to do this to day, she whispered. What else
Speaker 1: is left? I replied, vorce rouff. If I don't demand
Speaker 1: the truth, I'll lose my mind in here. She nodded,
Speaker 1: squeezing my palm. Just don't let him flip it. Don't
Speaker 1: walk away until you finish every question. She rummaged through
Speaker 1: her bag, producing concealer and a stick of gum, nervous
Speaker 1: offerings for the wounded. I let her fALS over me
Speaker 1: for a moment, then returned to pacing, hot, stumbling with
Speaker 1: a bitter mix of anticipation and exhaustion. By the time
Speaker 1: Jordan shuffled into the kitchen, hair still damp and alls heavy,
Speaker 1: Priya and I were sitting in silent, charged expectation. He blinked,
Speaker 1: surprised to see her at that hour. Hey, Priya, everything okay.
Speaker 1: She looked to me for permission, and I nodded. We
Speaker 1: needed to talk, I said, as calmly as I could.
Speaker 1: He frowned, feeling the chill about I stood, trying to
Speaker 1: keep my voice steady, about us, for about everything you've
Speaker 1: been hiding. Pray'll let her hand drop from mine and stood,
Speaker 1: shouldering her back. I'm going to take a walk. I'll
Speaker 1: be in a cafe on the corner if you need me,
Speaker 1: she said, locking her eyes on mine for a beat.
Speaker 1: I nodded, my mouth dry. Once she was gone, it
Speaker 1: was just us, the hissing radiator and the soft, insistent
Speaker 1: city noise leaking through the windows. For a moment, Jordan's
Speaker 1: confidence default brightness flickered uncertainly. Mal What is all this?
Speaker 1: He gestured vaguely at me at the tense air. I
Speaker 1: drew a breath. I know about you and Tess, the dinner's,
Speaker 1: the hotel, the e mails. I know. He opened his
Speaker 1: mouth shut. It studied my face as if searching for
Speaker 1: a line in my accusation. I have all of it, Jordan,
Speaker 1: all the proof. There's no story you can spend this time.
Speaker 1: He reached for the counter finger tip twight against the lamnae.
Speaker 1: No wait, I know that's how it looks, but it's
Speaker 1: really not. I cut him off. Please don't insult me,
Speaker 1: not now. Each word cost eff out, But I refused
Speaker 1: to cry. Just tell me the truth. Jordan's face wavered,
Speaker 1: cycling through defense in his shame, anger and something milkier
Speaker 1: harder to define, loss, maybe or a fear. I didn't mean.
Speaker 1: It wasn't about you. Test. She was a mess. I
Speaker 1: helped her with work, She confided things, and it got complicated.
Speaker 1: He tried to half shrug the performance of helplessness. You've
Speaker 1: been so distant lately with your work, my distance. I snapped,
Speaker 1: you cut me out, lied every day. You could have
Speaker 1: talked to me, Jordan, you could have told the truth.
Speaker 1: He looked away, swirling his hand over his faces off
Speaker 1: to wipe away gilt. I didn't want you to worry.
Speaker 1: Tess's issues were ugly, and the collective God, it was
Speaker 1: all so much. I never meant for things to happen.
Speaker 1: It was a mistake. I shook my head, a mistake.
Speaker 1: The hotel bar was a mistake. The dinners, the emails.
Speaker 1: You were careful, you plotted around me. I braced my
Speaker 1: hands on the counter of truth, releasing in small, bitter waves.
Speaker 1: You didn't just cheat, You built a whole life where
Speaker 1: I wasn't even a cameo. His voice rose sharp with panic. Now, no, no, mauet,
Speaker 1: you're twisting it. Things goth blurred. That's all so it
Speaker 1: was physical. I pressed each syllable, burning. He hesitated. Joe clenched,
Speaker 1: then quietly, Yes, but it wasn't. It was just escape.
Speaker 1: I never meant it, you never meant it, but you
Speaker 1: did it. I managed, voice raw. That's not an accident,
Speaker 1: that's a choice. Over and over. There was no path
Speaker 1: back from this. My hand shook mouff gum metallic. Jordan
Speaker 1: stood there, trembling, the man I had once chosen for
Speaker 1: ten years, looking so small. I wanted to scream. He
Speaker 1: tried it, desperately, to find some com for the language,
Speaker 1: a way to step around the facts. Things haven't been
Speaker 1: good with us, he offered, voice pleading. He retreat all
Speaker 1: the time, bury yourself in your projects. And I was
Speaker 1: just a test needed some one who saw her, who
Speaker 1: I don't know. I stared at him. The shape of
Speaker 1: betrayal no longer theoretical, So it's my faulty light. He
Speaker 1: shook his head, then nodded, unable to meet my eyes.
Speaker 1: Words fell to the floor between us, offering nothing but
Speaker 1: a coal deflating silence. I swear I never wanted to
Speaker 1: leave you. I was just so tired malick, so scared
Speaker 1: of failing. I thought if I could fix it all,
Speaker 1: help everyone, then maybe I could come back to you
Speaker 1: and it would be okay. His voice broke, and I
Speaker 1: watched guilt and desperation more across his face. I didn't bother,
Speaker 1: asking him to spare me the details I'd already seen enough.
Speaker 1: I turned away from him, heart pulsing in my throat.
Speaker 1: Don't call this fixing, I said softly. He didn't fix anything.
Speaker 1: You broke every part of our life together and kept
Speaker 1: rewinding the tape. Jordan sagged, then leaned against the counter,
Speaker 1: choking out. I know, I know, I did. The smallness
Speaker 1: of the apartment pressed on me, a place that once
Speaker 1: felt like safety now box closing in. He took a
Speaker 1: hesitant step forward, but stopped himself. What are you going
Speaker 1: to do, he asked, I'm leaving, I said. The words
Speaker 1: arrived cold and certain, not forever, maybe, but to day.
Speaker 1: I can't breathe in here, he staggered back, as if
Speaker 1: I had struck him. I moved to the bedroom, the
Speaker 1: ethic with the finality of their decision. I threw open drawers,
Speaker 1: shoved a few essentials into my weekend bag of clothes, laptop, charger,
Speaker 1: tooth brush, favor its wetter. My hands functioned independently of
Speaker 1: my thoughts. Jordan hovered uselessly, slid in the hallway, making
Speaker 1: no move to follow, not arguing, not apologizing further. A
Speaker 1: hundred possible lost words occurred to me, but none seemed right,
Speaker 1: and so I packed in silence. As I closed the
Speaker 1: main zipper on my bag, I paused at the foot
Speaker 1: of the bed, looking around. Photos stare from the wallow,
Speaker 1: faces of birthday's holidays, crowded street corners. For a flash,
Speaker 1: I felt the loss acutely, the weight of a decade
Speaker 1: pressed into a single, chattering, weakened. Jordan finally spoke from
Speaker 1: the freshole voice hoarse, I'm sorry, Malika, I really am.
Speaker 1: I slung the bag's strap over my shoulder, refusing to
Speaker 1: let myself look back. Don't be sorry, be honest. I
Speaker 1: brushed past him, brushing my shoulder against his outstretched hand.
Speaker 1: He didn't try to stop me. As I crossed the
Speaker 1: living room, I snatched my keys, fawn and wallet, and
Speaker 1: send attacks to Priy. Done. Can you meet me out front?
Speaker 1: She replied instantly, of course. I slipped into my shoes
Speaker 1: and with a brief shaking breath, left the apartment behind.
Speaker 1: The hallway was brighter than I remembered, echoing with my
Speaker 1: footsteps until I hit the stairwall two at a time. Outside,
Speaker 1: the air was sharper at the city's sound less muffled.
Speaker 1: Priya was waiting on the steps, Fawn in one hand,
Speaker 1: worried lines esh deep around her muff She stood, scanned
Speaker 1: my face, then wrapped her arms around me. I stiffened,
Speaker 1: then let myself lean, just for a second against the
Speaker 1: person who had seen me through every definition of home.
Speaker 1: Neither of us spoke. On the way to her car,
Speaker 1: I slid into the passenger seat. She put the radio onlow,
Speaker 1: letting the music filled the cracks. I watched a building
Speaker 1: vanish in the side mirror relief and lost surging in
Speaker 1: alternate waves. The city below had passed streets I had
Speaker 1: lived on for a decade. Places that map joint memories
Speaker 1: now stray, range and distant. Once a prey is. I
Speaker 1: dropped my things in her spare room. She handed me
Speaker 1: a glass of water, her practical comfort. We sat side
Speaker 1: by side on her couch for a while, her presence
Speaker 1: enough that my panic didn't tip into despair. Still the
Speaker 1: day shock vibrated through me. I was inside my body,
Speaker 1: but only just after an hour I made my decision,
Speaker 1: no more ambiguity. I took out my phone and composed
Speaker 1: a short message to the friends who hovered orkwardly at
Speaker 1: our periphery Jeram, Sir her Ne'a, a few others. Jordan
Speaker 1: and I have separated. I need space and time. Please
Speaker 1: respect my privacy while we work out next step. I
Speaker 1: hit send before I could overthink it, then blocked both
Speaker 1: Jordan and Test from every social media and message up.
Speaker 1: I had sudden silence, a signal that boundaries now mattered
Speaker 1: more than comfort. Priya left me alone as I sorted
Speaker 1: through my back back the start of a new and
Speaker 1: wanted ritual. I realized, standing in front of the little dresser,
Speaker 1: that there was nothing left to say, no more secrets
Speaker 1: to excavate. What had happened was finite, a complete and
Speaker 1: doing that was the truth of it. There would be
Speaker 1: pain of course and entangling, and more good bass than
Speaker 1: seemed possible. I would visit the apartment and once more
Speaker 1: I suppose to gather the rest of my things, but
Speaker 1: never when Jordan was home. Already, Texan apologies began to ping.
Speaker 1: Already lines were being drawn quietly among our friends. When
Speaker 1: Priya knocked on the door. A little while later, with
Speaker 1: tea in a slice of old cake, I fell for
Speaker 1: the first time in weeks. The universe tilt back until
Speaker 1: my knot hole not healed, but settled like a canvass
Speaker 1: drying after a turbulent wash. Later, with my back unpacked
Speaker 1: and Priya patting around on the phone in the next room,
Speaker 1: I scrolled through old photos on my laptop, galleries, birdies,
Speaker 1: versions of myself for Jordan, everyone laughing, arms tangled in celebration.
Speaker 1: I paused at a photo from last year, the two
Speaker 1: of us at our open table, surrounded by friends, smiles
Speaker 1: so wide they looked effortless. I felt that moment like
Speaker 1: a punch to the heart, but refused to look away.
Speaker 1: I selected the album, and with careful deliberation de lead
Speaker 1: I scrolled backward further, stopping at a photo of me
Speaker 1: alone the year I moved to the city before Jordan.
Speaker 1: Standing by an orange wall with sunlight in my eyes,
Speaker 1: I let that one remain. It was enough. I put
Speaker 1: the laptop away, stood and crossed the window. The city's
Speaker 1: noise bubbled up. Late diners across the street, cheer, scraping tile, laughter,
Speaker 1: aarking skyward. I watched a scene not as a member,
Speaker 1: but as an observer, everyone living their little stories, the
Speaker 1: world continuing, indifferent and unstoppable. I let myself feel it,
Speaker 1: all fresh and sharp, grief edged with relief that nobody
Speaker 1: else would tell me what was real. From now on,
Speaker 1: I stood in the window above the street, breathing in
Speaker 1: until nothing left a mandate explanation. The air in Prie's
Speaker 1: apartment was thinner than I remembered, scented by her lavender,
Speaker 1: old effusor, and the left of a dust of hope.
Speaker 1: I barely moved from the window until the city lights
Speaker 1: brightened into evening sun, slashing orange, three gaps in the blinds,
Speaker 1: then falling away, leaving me cast in blue, watching lives
Speaker 1: I didn't no play out below. Occasionally I'd hear Priri
Speaker 1: in the kitchen, murmuring into her phone about something routine,
Speaker 1: voice anchoring me to the world. She checked on me
Speaker 1: every our gentle knock, a glass of water toast, the
Speaker 1: murmured suggestion of a movie I didn't want to watch.
Speaker 1: I tried to be grateful, but mostly just drifted, hovering
Speaker 1: between trembling exhaustion and blank spaces. Some time after dusk,
Speaker 1: I received another message from Sammer. This time it's simply sad.
Speaker 1: He told me, I'm here if you need one sentence,
Speaker 1: deliberate and careful. I didn't reply. The group was dividing allegiances,
Speaker 1: redrawing themselves in the space my marriage left behind. Over
Speaker 1: the next hour, more messages trickled Nea with a solitary heart.
Speaker 1: Even Jeram, who never texted more than a thumb's up,
Speaker 1: sent thinking of you here whenever. The silence from Jordan,
Speaker 1: meanwhile was total. I imagined him alone in our apartment,
Speaker 1: the dishes from last night still dry, in every surface
Speaker 1: marked by absence. Prius suggested a shower, offered borrowed pajamas,
Speaker 1: and found me a clean towel, still smiling faintly of
Speaker 1: her detergent instead of mine. I stepped under the hot
Speaker 1: spray and watched waters roil away, wondering if it was
Speaker 1: possible to shed Jane, anger and lost in a single hour,
Speaker 1: my sin prickled almost fever hot, and my thought's pulse
Speaker 1: with logistical dread. What next? Which account passwords needed changing,
Speaker 1: which subscriptions split, which keys returned? I could only manage
Speaker 1: the most immediate needs to night here. The rest of
Speaker 1: the week is sum yet to be determined. Friend's couch
Speaker 1: and then beyond that was a haze. When I emerged
Speaker 1: in Prie's oversized pajamas, she handed me a mug of
Speaker 1: her rub tea and nudge me toward the fruit. And
Speaker 1: you can be furious, you know, she murmured, watching me
Speaker 1: appraise the dock room, or you can be numb or both.
Speaker 1: I'm here either way. She sat beside me until I
Speaker 1: was too exhausted to keep my eyes open, and when
Speaker 1: I drifted off, I dreamed of running through deserted museum corridors.
Speaker 1: Every exhibit a scene from my former life, class cases sealed,
Speaker 1: the people inside looking at me with polite and knowing smiles.
Speaker 1: The next morning began with the brittle edge of reality.
Speaker 1: My phone throbbed with Miss Coles, a couple from freelance clients,
Speaker 1: more from numbers I recognized, but didn't want to see Jordan,
Speaker 1: of course, and one from Tess I deleted without reading.
Speaker 1: The city below hummed to life, and with it a
Speaker 1: fresh pressure settled on my chest. It would not be
Speaker 1: enough to simply leave. I'd have to redraw borders with precision,
Speaker 1: stake my life for pot from his, not just physically,
Speaker 1: but across every shared entanglement. I texted Jordan quick and clear,
Speaker 1: I'll come by from my things on Monday when you're
Speaker 1: at the collective. Please don't be there. His reply, five
Speaker 1: minutes later was scattered, almost frantic, Malaca, I know you're furious.
Speaker 1: I respect what you need. I want to talk, just
Speaker 1: once in person. Please let me know. I didn't respond
Speaker 1: right away. I show pri you the message, looking for
Speaker 1: clarity I couldn't summon on my own. Do you are
Speaker 1: the last conversation? She asked, Lovell unwilling to nudge me
Speaker 1: either way, No, I decided after a minute. If you
Speaker 1: wanted that, we'd have had it years ago, before all this.
Speaker 1: I silenced his number completely. After that moment, my decision,
Speaker 1: my refusal, an invisible lockslet into place inside me. It
Speaker 1: wasn't released, not quite, but it was the first boundary
Speaker 1: I set without negotiation. I afternoon, the group tap brightened
Speaker 1: with cautious, awkward up for each. Nea offered her place
Speaker 1: for an evening, a change of scenery, bring art supplies,
Speaker 1: we'll eat dumplings and paint. Cheron suggested a brookstore at
Speaker 1: place to disappear. Sam would just send a playless hours
Speaker 1: of new music, no note attached. I read everything, grateful
Speaker 1: and tired, and replied to Nane. The undertow of my
Speaker 1: separation rippled through our web of friends, shaping their weekends,
Speaker 1: just as at ship Mine. Between short naps, I began
Speaker 1: drafting the only kind of message I felt responsible for,
Speaker 1: a clarty to those on the far periphery, my two
Speaker 1: freelance partners about potential project delays, the gallery friend who
Speaker 1: sent me that commission, even Priya's cousin who sometimes cat
Speaker 1: sat when I traveled. I wrote versions of the truth
Speaker 1: that emphasized privacy and dignity. I did not mention Jordan
Speaker 1: ar tests by name, only reference to a personal transition,
Speaker 1: and asked for patience. I was surprised by how procedural
Speaker 1: this fell. Not angry, not vengeful, just necessary. The world
Speaker 1: kept moving, as did I That afternoon on autopilot, as scheduled,
Speaker 1: and you were for Monday morning. Blocked off a calender
Speaker 1: slot for packing and set reminders to collect my mailscorre
Speaker 1: documents from the apartment laptop, and gathered the last of
Speaker 1: my exbition materials from the whole closet. A practical voice
Speaker 1: in my head whispered warnings, remember the charge of cables,
Speaker 1: the house puts the brushes. Take nothing that is irreplaceable.
Speaker 1: E the rest, even the things you love. Rather than
Speaker 1: start another fight, I wrote out a checklist, grimly efficient.
Speaker 1: That night before turning in, Priya found me staring into
Speaker 1: the Frayshire movie. You have to eat, she prodded, and
Speaker 1: you have to sleep, but you don't have to forgive.
Speaker 1: Not to night. I nodded her words, didn't sinking immediately,
Speaker 1: but I grasped one sleepually. I poured cereal, spooned it
Speaker 1: together with two cold milk, and let her sit beside
Speaker 1: me in silence another hour. It wasn't until nearly minette
Speaker 1: that I noticed an email from the collector's main account
Speaker 1: of my design invose paid at last with a polite
Speaker 1: note from their treasure. I stared at the zero balance,
Speaker 1: laughing aloud for the first time. In days, the absurd
Speaker 1: timing of a life settling debts only after burning down
Speaker 1: the house. It was a dark, necessary joke. I didn't
Speaker 1: bother sharing Sunday sloop past, slow and colorless. I thumb
Speaker 1: through old sketch books. Found early thumb nails of the
Speaker 1: Indigo House via my credits in blocky font, the seed
Speaker 1: of a dream that now felt sickly hollow. I started
Speaker 1: to rip them out, then stopped. You cannot erase the origins,
Speaker 1: only decide where they belonged going forward. I tucked them
Speaker 1: into my back, relics of a contribution no one else
Speaker 1: would trace. By Monday morning, my bag was elbowed full
Speaker 1: a stack of unopened up mailos tucked against bare socks,
Speaker 1: the last pages of my habit journal, sewed alongside charter
Speaker 1: of cables and extra pens. With carefully steady breath, I
Speaker 1: watched pre upon me coffee, watched her check the time,
Speaker 1: as if exiling me to war rather than an old
Speaker 1: apartment where everything now felt strained. She hugged me tightly
Speaker 1: by the door, Text me when you're done. If he's
Speaker 1: their call, I'll be two minutes away. I nodded my
Speaker 1: thanks and left hot summon in my chase. Breath shallow
Speaker 1: but rhymic, the eyuber wind slowly through city streets, every
Speaker 1: corner painted with memory, the newel we painted together, the
Speaker 1: market where we fought over basil, at the dive bar,
Speaker 1: where we'd lost a month's rent on a dare. Now
Speaker 1: every landmark felt distant, haunted by a version of me
Speaker 1: that still wore hope as armor. Arriving at our building,
Speaker 1: I sat in the car for a moment, bracing myself.
Speaker 1: The lobby was empty, the elevator slow. I half expected
Speaker 1: to hear voices arguing behind the thin walls, but the
Speaker 1: apartment was quiet. When I entered, dust motes dancing in
Speaker 1: the late morning sun, every smell, the faint lavender, the
Speaker 1: undertone of old coffee, slamming me with collective memory. Jordan
Speaker 1: was not there. Even his shoes were missing from the entryway,
Speaker 1: as if he'd staged a place for indifference. Room by room,
Speaker 1: I moved, folding clothes with mechanical efficiency, packing my sketch books, chargers,
Speaker 1: favorite books, some kitchen tools I couldn't live without. I
Speaker 1: paused in front of the wall of pinnedforvos, undecided. In
Speaker 1: the end, I took only three, one with pre and
Speaker 1: me from the university, one of my mother on the
Speaker 1: balcony last winter, and one where I mid laugh Jordan
Speaker 1: blurry in the background, reminding myself that not all history
Speaker 1: can be written, only reframed. Every new box clothes with
Speaker 1: tape felt like an exhale. In the closet, I found
Speaker 1: an envelope Jordan's handwriting, unopened mail from two weeks before,
Speaker 1: dressed to both of us. Out of habit, I slid
Speaker 1: it open inside only a flyer for another Indigo event,
Speaker 1: Tessa's name on the press releases Operations lead. I barely
Speaker 1: felt the sting, but slid the paper into the trash.
Speaker 1: The last sweep through the bathroom turned up a lone
Speaker 1: e aring of mine, a pale blue stud misplaced months ago.
Speaker 1: I dropped it into my bag, unable to sort its
Speaker 1: real meaning, then wiped the surfaces with a paper towel,
Speaker 1: a pointless but comforting act. I paused at the bedroom door,
Speaker 1: feeling the boundaries between ours and mine thin out. I
Speaker 1: left his altar defolded on the bay, the one eyed
Speaker 1: once storn so many times. He quit protesting, not out
Speaker 1: of bitterness but finality. Let some piece of the old
Speaker 1: piece day where it belonged. On my way out, I
Speaker 1: added my keys to the ball in the hallway, counted
Speaker 1: the boxes, and snapped one last picture of a living room,
Speaker 1: a document, nothing more of a space in which life
Speaker 1: once happened. A text pinged you, O K need help
Speaker 1: from prayer, I replied, Madan coming home now. As I
Speaker 1: left the apartment, locking the door behind me for the
Speaker 1: last time, Jordan's steps did not echo behind me, and
Speaker 1: I felt no urge to look back. The elevator seemed
Speaker 1: lighter at my reflection in the brush steel both familiar
Speaker 1: in you outside. The air bit into my face a
Speaker 1: spring when pushing at my hair. I balanced boxes awkwardly,
Speaker 1: waited for the ride Prix promised, and let the city
Speaker 1: move around me. The stranger held the building door open
Speaker 1: as I pass, nodding without recognition. I took the moment
Speaker 1: as an om in the world, large and indifferent, ready
Speaker 1: to receive what I needed to become. By early afternoon,
Speaker 1: every last box was lined against the walls of priya
Speaker 1: spare room. She helped me stat my books, hum my coat,
Speaker 1: then quietly left her own keys on my makeshift nights
Speaker 1: into subtle invitation to day as long as I wished,
Speaker 1: I nodded, unable to summon gratitude out loud. That afternoon,
Speaker 1: I texted my mother, not for advice, only fact Jordan
Speaker 1: and I have split. I'm okay staying with Priya. Her
Speaker 1: reply came quickly as yours wherever you are, call when
Speaker 1: you can. I sent back a heart, holding my phone
Speaker 1: until my fingers numbed, then forced myself to move to
Speaker 1: make teach and inhabits base, even when it felt like
Speaker 1: a cla pray out true to her A word rounded
Speaker 1: up our friends for one gentle gathering and no questions,
Speaker 1: no sides, just a table set with mismatched plates and
Speaker 1: warm bread. Laughter rose in cautious bursts, nobody pressed. Samuel
Speaker 1: filled the silence with a dumb story about a gallery
Speaker 1: owner's dog, Nissan and off Key trying to make me smile.
Speaker 1: Jerream dozed in a beanbag and walk with a SNAr,
Speaker 1: growning sheepishly. I ate in small bites, lighting gratitude, register
Speaker 1: even and tiny broken increments. By evening, as the city
Speaker 1: darkened and the apartment grew quiet again, I realized the
Speaker 1: ache inside me was less terror than emptiness, the ring
Speaker 1: silence of possibility, after a long drawn out storm. I
Speaker 1: would not know what came next, but I had made
Speaker 1: a decision. It would not be decided from me again. Later,
Speaker 1: before bed, I turned my phone over and over in
Speaker 1: my hands, read it again, the early threads of photos
Speaker 1: and texts, the origin stories before betrayals. I selected the
Speaker 1: wedding folder, our anniversary dinners, the vacation selfies, and with
Speaker 1: a glad ammous finality, deleted each one. None of these
Speaker 1: belonged to my future anymore. I reached the folder from
Speaker 1: my first year in the city, A photo taken phone
Speaker 1: held at arm's length, joy clear as day on my face,
Speaker 1: then tangled, unclaimed, uncertain, but still wholly myself. I let
Speaker 1: that linger, a memory, and spoiled by the need to
Speaker 1: define anything else by another's orbit. When I finished, I
Speaker 1: let the laptop slide shut and cross to the window,
Speaker 1: standing as street lights flickered across new rain below. The
Speaker 1: restaurant across the way fell into shadow, then filled with
Speaker 1: a burst of hungry strangers, laughter and music, threading up
Speaker 1: through the early dark. None of it needed my voice,
Speaker 1: my presence, my story. I watched, steady and hidden, letting
Speaker 1: relief and regret and hope, function inside me all at
Speaker 1: once as I finally let myself cry, clean and deep,
Speaker 1: not in mourning, but in gratitude for the clarity that
Speaker 1: comes as everything unfinished becomes at last complete, and that
Speaker 1: is the end. Thank you for listening, and I will
Speaker 1: see you in the next one.