Speaker 1: It was past midnight when the house finally felt quite
Speaker 1: Not the kind of peace were quiet that you welcome,
Speaker 1: but that heavy urban late night hush. The heating pipes
Speaker 1: clicked in the walls, a few muffled horns filtered through
Speaker 1: the cracked windows from the Gold Coast traffic, and the
Speaker 1: ice in my water glass takes that melted down the side.
Speaker 1: I should have been asleep, Instead, I was in sweats
Speaker 1: on the living room couch, hunched over my laptop, forcing
Speaker 1: myself through the final tweaks of a quarterly pitch deck
Speaker 1: that was due by nine the next morning. I let
Speaker 1: the stranger Playliss Tom under my headphones, half listening for
Speaker 1: the next sly transition. Across the dark hallway, A sliver
Speaker 1: of yellow light spilled beneath the door of the little
Speaker 1: studied one with a glass pane door we never got
Speaker 1: around to replacing. I could hear the low buzz of
Speaker 1: Hannah's voice, sometimes animated, sometimes soft, fading in and out
Speaker 1: above the gentle were of their purifire. She insisted on
Speaker 1: running during a deep work. Every so often, a sudden
Speaker 1: ripple of laughter would echo out, a real laugh, higher
Speaker 1: in her register than her default. A professional giggle. At first,
Speaker 1: I tuned it out, chalking it up to another late
Speaker 1: night conference call lately that was becoming routine. Late focus
Speaker 1: locked away. She texted around nine to warn me not
Speaker 1: to wait up for dinner, promising she'd make it up
Speaker 1: by the weekend. I shrugged, ordered rawm and answered a
Speaker 1: few emails and cut into my own backock. But a
Speaker 1: round one I needed a break and let myself listen
Speaker 1: more closely. Her laugh stopped me in place. She was teasing,
Speaker 1: not just responding, teasing the way she does with friend.
Speaker 1: After two glasses of wine, I heard her say, come on, Sunbeam,
Speaker 1: you can't be serious. The words hung in the air, warm, intimate,
Speaker 1: in a way that didn't fit with the hanna I
Speaker 1: glimpsed lately, who had been exhausted and withdrawn. I froze
Speaker 1: at the words sunbeam. I tried flipping back through my memory.
Speaker 1: Some old friend, maybe not a name i'd ever heard
Speaker 1: her use, certainly not for any of the friends or
Speaker 1: family I knew. My brain started buzzing with half formed suspicions,
Speaker 1: but I brushed it aside. Maybe she was quoting some
Speaker 1: one from earlier story and inside joke I didn't remember
Speaker 1: I waited longer, this time for her to say something
Speaker 1: that would clarify. Another laugh, softer, more private, And then
Speaker 1: just as quickly the tone shifted, Her voice stripped down,
Speaker 1: quieter and sharper. I heard her say hold on. Then
Speaker 1: footsteps crossed the wood as I got up and padded
Speaker 1: towards the study, my hand landing on the half open door,
Speaker 1: gently pushing it wider. She was perched forward at the desk,
Speaker 1: laptop camera angled up her, but in not noticing at first,
Speaker 1: her face shifted instantly from whatever she'd been enjoying to
Speaker 1: a sort of practiced, put together mask, the one she
Speaker 1: used when stepping from a design review into a networking dinner.
Speaker 1: She snapped the laptop shut, slipped the ebbit wires off,
Speaker 1: and turned to me, her eyes a little wide, almost irritated. Hey,
Speaker 1: I didn't realize you were up, she said, her voice quick,
Speaker 1: almost scolding. Did you need something? I loitered in the door,
Speaker 1: suddenly self conscious for having interrupted, just grabbing more water. Alied,
Speaker 1: you're still at it. She drew a breath and tucked
Speaker 1: loose hair behind her ear. Yeah, Cameron and I are
Speaker 1: closing out some sight plants. He's the new partner on
Speaker 1: the Kenilworth project. Sorry if I was loud, she added,
Speaker 1: switching smoothly to this Suta, familiar tone she used when
Speaker 1: she wanted to reset the mood. Long day hot, Did
Speaker 1: I miss anything crazy at the agency? She I did
Speaker 1: the conversation back to my side, asking about the pitch deck,
Speaker 1: pretending total interest. She smiled and rolled her chair back,
Speaker 1: motioning me in joking about my serious power point face.
Speaker 1: It was so seamless her pivot from private to domestic
Speaker 1: that for a moment, I almost felt guilty for being irritated.
Speaker 1: We talked about dinner, something about how she was starving,
Speaker 1: but I let her lead. As always, we fell into polite,
Speaker 1: well worn habits, the daily chick in a few scattered anecdotes.
Speaker 1: Eventually I left her to her last emails and I
Speaker 1: told myself to focus on my own task. Space was important.
Speaker 1: We both needed it. We want the couple who snooped
Speaker 1: on each other's messages or cared about each other's impulses.
Speaker 1: With friends still lying in bed and the Chicago knight
Speaker 1: peeking through the city shade. I replayed this tiny details,
Speaker 1: the throne voice, the nickname, the softest in her laughter,
Speaker 1: the flicker of annoyance before the practiced reassurance. Something just
Speaker 1: for a moment felt off, and it wouldn't stop nagging
Speaker 1: at me, not even after exhaustion finally won out. The
Speaker 1: thing is doubt, sneaks, and from odd angles. The places
Speaker 1: that should make you feel safer come the ones you question.
Speaker 1: I used to think Anna and I were immune to
Speaker 1: that sort of drama. The ways on couples just are.
Speaker 1: The first three years living in the little one bedroom
Speaker 1: up in Lincoln Park, it felt like the rest of
Speaker 1: the world might as well have been orbiting for all
Speaker 1: we cared. I'd wake up on Sundays to find her
Speaker 1: standing at the stove in her faded ye of our
Speaker 1: T shirt, had knotted up, picking through markets on her
Speaker 1: phone for whatever brunch special she just discovered. More often
Speaker 1: thannaw brunches turned into lazy, tipsy afternoons at jazz showcase
Speaker 1: or reading menus at whatever pop up Jamie and pre
Speaker 1: insisted was a mustry. Even when we moved to the
Speaker 1: big new apartment to open floor plan colossy appliances that
Speaker 1: sky line view, people went sluck Jeorde for. We kept
Speaker 1: up the habit people weren't and out of our place
Speaker 1: every other weekend. Our fridge was covered with friends, party photos,
Speaker 1: sticky notes from pre about wine perrings, neon wristbands from
Speaker 1: Cubs games, and side jokes about Jamie's inability to cook
Speaker 1: anything beyond toast. Everyone seemed to root for us. We
Speaker 1: were at the couple competitive about board games, always one
Speaker 1: uping each other on recommendations, the ones who could hold
Speaker 1: their liquor and keep the band of flying long after
Speaker 1: other couples were treated to ebers. Our group had their
Speaker 1: own orbit. Priya and Jamie, the newlyweds Dug who switched
Speaker 1: jobs every six months but still managed to know every
Speaker 1: bartender from here to Lakeview. Hannah was always the magnetic one.
Speaker 1: Her energy all lit up when the wine started to flow.
Speaker 1: Quietly confident in a way only certain people manage, eager
Speaker 1: to be in the center, but equally insistent on sharing
Speaker 1: nothing she didn't want to. She'd whispered private jokes in
Speaker 1: my ear, or flash a sly smile across the table
Speaker 1: that made me feel like I understood a real story
Speaker 1: behind whatever she was saying publicly. I always liked it
Speaker 1: about her that she could be at the center of
Speaker 1: the group and somehow still more mine than anyone else's.
Speaker 1: Our dynamic work because I didn't need the spotlight. I
Speaker 1: found comfort in the rhythm of our routines every Wednesday,
Speaker 1: movie night, Friday's dinner out, brunch at our place, or
Speaker 1: her friends on Sunday. She tolerated my obsession with running,
Speaker 1: even paced with me once for the Shamrock Shuffle while
Speaker 1: complaining the hallway. I tried to keep up with her career,
Speaker 1: of the late night's gesches on the dining table, the
Speaker 1: rolled up blue prints, the stress stories about clients who
Speaker 1: wanted open concert without paying for it. We were ambitious,
Speaker 1: not so much competing, more like two people running at
Speaker 1: the same speed on different tracks. Whenever she landed pitch,
Speaker 1: we'd toast to it. Whenever I nailed a campaign, she'd
Speaker 1: asked to see the social insights, pretending to be interested
Speaker 1: even when her mind was clearly designing something three steps ahead.
Speaker 1: Our trust wasn't something spoken aloud, It just was. There
Speaker 1: were always small secrets, but they were thrilling, hidden prisons,
Speaker 1: surprise outings. A time I planned her birthday week and
Speaker 1: pretended I'd forgotten, only for her to top me the
Speaker 1: next year with a roof out party and never so coming.
Speaker 1: If anything, Mayan's curity had always been about not quite
Speaker 1: matching her. Her work drive her prisons. Sometimes after she
Speaker 1: finished a midnight deadline, she'd stumble into bed and be
Speaker 1: asleep in seconds, while I'd lie awake wondering if I
Speaker 1: was doing enough, if I was enough. But that was
Speaker 1: my own internal weather, nothing to do with her. She
Speaker 1: hated talking about failure. Whenever she lost a pitch or
Speaker 1: had a brutal architect client review, she'd close up for
Speaker 1: a while, but then bounce back quick with the joke
Speaker 1: about design drama. The rare times we did fight, it
Speaker 1: was always over time when she'd be gone for a
Speaker 1: week on a sight visit, were when I'd overcommit to work.
Speaker 1: The fights were intense, but quick, ending with awkward silences,
Speaker 1: orterior apologies, and then we'd move right back into our orbit. Secrets,
Speaker 1: even the harmless kind had always been a joke between us.
Speaker 1: She'd bring up surprise tickets without telling me I'd pan
Speaker 1: an anniversary gift three months early. It added a sense
Speaker 1: of mistury, never threat. What would I ever have to
Speaker 1: worry about until maybe now? Because the truth is, until recently,
Speaker 1: I never thought twice about her evenings in the office,
Speaker 1: the overnight blueprints, the client meetings that brown late because
Speaker 1: she always came home to me eventually curled up against
Speaker 1: me with cold feet, and an update on some expensive
Speaker 1: mishap at the firm. But then this new project there,
Speaker 1: Kennilworth thing with its all hours demands, and more importantly, Cameron,
Speaker 1: her new project partner, that she dropped into conversation with
Speaker 1: the same casualness as the weather. Cameron's name began standing
Speaker 1: in for all our misfriend's dinners, a project that kept
Speaker 1: her buzzing at odd hours, the high profile job that
Speaker 1: became her shield against everything else. Little by little, the
Speaker 1: stability that once felt so unshakeable started to look more
Speaker 1: like drift, like a pattern she could step away from
Speaker 1: and into a hundred late nights. She never explained it
Speaker 1: used to feel so reassuring to have routines, her family
Speaker 1: closed by advanced in the steady upward climb of both
Speaker 1: our jobs our easy network of friends. Now I wasn't
Speaker 1: sure when comfort had become complacency. When ed she started
Speaker 1: using other people's names as shields. When did we become
Speaker 1: a question mark? I couldn't quite finish. We were good together,
Speaker 1: we were a team. So when did I start feeling
Speaker 1: left behind? That Wednesday, Hannah texted at five to say
Speaker 1: she wouldn't be hum for dinner again U Saturdays standing
Speaker 1: dinner with pri and Jamie at Revival Food Hall was
Speaker 1: supposed to be the week's highlight. Instead, Hannah left a
Speaker 1: voice memo, sorry, babe, swamp Kenna was client fluent and
Speaker 1: its gotten nuts. Please apologize to Prey and Jamie. She
Speaker 1: tacked on a soft rain check promise, love you, Prey.
Speaker 1: You texted me an hour later with a screenshot everything okay.
Speaker 1: She canceled last week the same exact message, hope she's
Speaker 1: not burning out. Her concern was real. She never liked
Speaker 1: being brushed off twice in a row, especially not by Hannah,
Speaker 1: who gave her almost the exact same wording before pre
Speaker 1: I thrive. When planning in detail, her radar was keen
Speaker 1: for when things stopped adding up. I read Hannah's messages,
Speaker 1: hearing her voice in my I had measured slightly rushed
Speaker 1: the edge of apology, perfectly modulated. Was it possible she
Speaker 1: was just overwhelmed? Nothing sneaky at all. A high profile
Speaker 1: project could eat your life for months. Still, I felt
Speaker 1: the questions saddle behind my ribs. Was she being honest?
Speaker 1: Were just managing me as one more counter slot to negotiate.
Speaker 1: Hannah came home late that night, not entirely haggard the
Speaker 1: way I expected. Her hair was done up, make up
Speaker 1: faded but deliberate, clothes fresh. She dropped her bag in
Speaker 1: the hallway and smiled a flick over real warm. But
Speaker 1: the moment I said I counseled plans for her, she
Speaker 1: blinked and looked away, half mumbing something about next time
Speaker 1: did you eat? I asked? She nodded, grab sushi with Cameron.
Speaker 1: He wanted to walk through the plans one more time.
Speaker 1: Something odd. She seemed almost energetic, not drained or defeated
Speaker 1: the way she used to be after back to back deadlines.
Speaker 1: In the kitchen, as she entered her tote, I noticed
Speaker 1: a small bottle tucked into the side, expensive, heavy glass,
Speaker 1: muted branding. I picked it up, sniffed the cap, unfamiliar, spicy,
Speaker 1: somehow not quite her usual subtle perfumes. I held it up, unissent.
Speaker 1: She laughed, not the warm laugh from the phone, but
Speaker 1: the polite, performative one. Though God no, Cameron's built colonne
Speaker 1: all over my files. The whole office smelt like a
Speaker 1: men's locker room. Charming, I said, placing the bottle down.
Speaker 1: As she turned away. I saw her joe clench just
Speaker 1: for a second. That night, when we slid into bed,
Speaker 1: she kept to her side, scrolling through emails on her phone.
Speaker 1: When I reached over, just a gentle touch to her arm,
Speaker 1: she flinched, only slightly, but enough that the sheep between
Speaker 1: us suddenly felt like a wall. She offered a distracted
Speaker 1: a night, babe, and turned out the light. I gathered
Speaker 1: myself tightly, feeling the silent stretch. Wide lying awake, I
Speaker 1: interrogated myself. Was I becoming one of those guys, jealous, suspicious,
Speaker 1: desperate to catch my wife in something as mondane as
Speaker 1: changing her routine? Was I losing her? Or just losing
Speaker 1: track of how a marriage growster's dress. People change when
Speaker 1: they succeed, right, Some couples thrive on long periods of distance.
Speaker 1: Yet the phone call, with the sunbeam, the cologne, the
Speaker 1: changed mood, her sudden retreat from friends, all of it
Speaker 1: snaked around my thoughts, gilt pressed in. I told myself
Speaker 1: to trust her, After all, what else were six years
Speaker 1: supposed to buy you two weeks trickled by thick with
Speaker 1: late nights both at work in at home, Hannah was
Speaker 1: barely at presence, stitching herself into her projects, apologizing with
Speaker 1: practice calm. I started picking up the domestic slack groceries, dishes,
Speaker 1: paying bales, acting as point of contact for our group
Speaker 1: messages and her family. When she went off grid one night,
Speaker 1: wanting to do something nice, I texted her at eight
Speaker 1: asking if she wanted to take out. No reply. By nine,
Speaker 1: I packed up two bowls of posta and moored the
Speaker 1: four blocks to her office. Downtown was mostly empty by then.
Speaker 1: A few calves and delivery by sweaving through paddles. Her
Speaker 1: firm occupied three stories, all glass panels and modular furniture.
Speaker 1: The lights were bright on the night, panoramic windows framing
Speaker 1: the lake in darkness. I buzzed up, announced myself at
Speaker 1: reception a Hay just surprising my wife with dinner. She's
Speaker 1: in Kenilworth product and rode up with leequ impost cup
Speaker 1: in my hands, feeling more boyfriend than husband. Hannah was
Speaker 1: in the corner conference room, papers spread everywhere, at a
Speaker 1: set of models taking up most of the time table.
Speaker 1: She looked up startled. Next to her stood Cameron, a
Speaker 1: couple years younger at most Joeline. You see ensued AD's
Speaker 1: dark hair falling over his forehead, wearing sneakers with his blazer.
Speaker 1: He smiled immediately, a kind of curisper. You don't have
Speaker 1: to fake, Hey, Jack, we're just about done here. You
Speaker 1: bring sustenance, hammeron, grinned stepping aside so I could find
Speaker 1: a spot at the table. Yeah, thought you could use
Speaker 1: something that's not delivery, so she I said, Searching Hannah's
Speaker 1: face for a reaction, she nodded, her expression tense, lips tight.
Speaker 1: You didn't have to You should have texted, she paused,
Speaker 1: her eyes flicking rapidly between me and Cameron. Cameron, for
Speaker 1: his part, seemed to home, cracking quick jokes about varcat
Speaker 1: at Cobbs, glancing at Hanna in a way I've felt off,
Speaker 1: like there was a silent conversation running beneath the banter.
Speaker 1: She laughed at two things I didn't understand, biting her
Speaker 1: lit the way she used to when she wanted me
Speaker 1: to know she was only pretending. I lighted fifteen minutes,
Speaker 1: offering a ficialo comments there made my exit feeling like
Speaker 1: a substitute teacher in my own marriage. As I walked out,
Speaker 1: I caught Cameron's voice, see you tomorrow, sunbeam light of hand,
Speaker 1: as if he wasn't even diking back in the elevator.
Speaker 1: My mind picked about every detail. Maybe it was a word,
Speaker 1: office nickname, an architectural and joke it had never been mine,
Speaker 1: and Hannah's eyebrows forward, a mouth press and a tutline.
Speaker 1: She preferred not to explain. Over the next week, the
Speaker 1: evidence didn't go away. I noticed Hanna's routines, mut hating.
Speaker 1: Her friend was always on silent set, face down during meals,
Speaker 1: rarely more than an arm's length away. She spent longer
Speaker 1: picking out fits each morning. She is I didn't recognize
Speaker 1: her hair styled with more intention. When I asked about it,
Speaker 1: she brushed it off. A big client, eh, you know
Speaker 1: how it is, She barely replied to group textan and more,
Speaker 1: sometimes a half hearted thumbs up or a long hours late.
Speaker 1: At first, friends jerked about how intense her new project
Speaker 1: must be. But when she missed Jamie's birth the happy
Speaker 1: hour with the generic apology, he commented, she seemed to
Speaker 1: off lost time, not just tied, almost like distracted I
Speaker 1: asked about work, and she started talking about efficiency metrics
Speaker 1: instead of real life. I suggested a weekend in Michigan's
Speaker 1: something to clear our heads, maybe even Reacon. Hannah looked annoyed.
Speaker 1: Now is literally the worst time, Jake. I just need
Speaker 1: to get through this month. Please stop adding stuff. I
Speaker 1: tried a movie night at home. She agreed, but spent
Speaker 1: half the movie answering emails. Feet called away, apologizing with
Speaker 1: a tone that closed the conversation before I could try
Speaker 1: another morning, I was sorting the mail and found and
Speaker 1: you were receiding the recycling printed in a rush, the
Speaker 1: name Hannah at the top. The ride was from a
Speaker 1: bar in Bucktant a hotel near Navy Pier. No one
Speaker 1: near her office, no one near any of her listed
Speaker 1: clients sites. When I asked about it, half jokingly, she shrugged,
Speaker 1: dropped off a junior designer. After drinks, people get too
Speaker 1: tipsy and you have to babysit. She didn't look up
Speaker 1: from her phone. I didn't press. Part of loving someone
Speaker 1: meant believing the version they offered. Yet I started noticing
Speaker 1: little trimmers numbers on our credit card statement that didn't
Speaker 1: add up. Flowers delivered on week days or restaurant. I'd
Speaker 1: never been to client. Thank you, she smiled, waving it off.
Speaker 1: Family dinner with Hannah's parents in a vancon was another
Speaker 1: clear the sort I wouldn't notice accept in context. Her mother, Martha,
Speaker 1: who believed herself a keeper of all things practical, grill
Speaker 1: Hannah about her hours. You're really working her, aren't you?
Speaker 1: And Cameron he's as brilliant as you say. Hannah smiled,
Speaker 1: but didn't elaborate. I've realized she talked about Cameron to
Speaker 1: her family, describing the long hours their team work as
Speaker 1: though rehearsing an explanation for any absentee moments in advance.
Speaker 1: Diner ended awkwardly. I tried to update her dad about
Speaker 1: my work, but how ir retreated to scrolling for images
Speaker 1: of city projects, verily making eye contact with any one.
Speaker 1: Sunday night, the group throwd pinged about Prixa's birthday plans.
Speaker 1: Hannah's reply came three hours later, Sorry working late, maybe
Speaker 1: next time. No embellishment, just a need clipped out, Priya
Speaker 1: texted me privately. Is she mad at me? Or just
Speaker 1: driving in work? One night, walking past the bathroom, I
Speaker 1: heard Hanna on the phone once again. Too warm too cautious,
Speaker 1: voice pitched down. I paused, out of sight. She ended
Speaker 1: the call fast, this time, the silence so abruptly questioned
Speaker 1: whether I'd imagine the affection in her voice. These weren't
Speaker 1: smoking guns, nothing that couldn't have passed for ordinary, explainable adults. Stress,
Speaker 1: but the weight of everything built slow but relentless. Dinners deferred, laughter,
Speaker 1: replaced by tension, polite conversations that circle necessity is out
Speaker 1: of connection, intimacy duld. We grew physically polite to peck
Speaker 1: on the cheek rather than a real kiss. Excuses about
Speaker 1: being tired. Meetings in the morning, jokes landed with false laughter.
Speaker 1: Night in bed felt more like silent truces than reunions.
Speaker 1: I began doubting myself. Maybe I was being too high maintenance,
Speaker 1: cling to what we used to have. Maybe she was
Speaker 1: just growing, not out of love, but away from routine.
Speaker 1: I questioned if I was young enough to keep her interested, interesting,
Speaker 1: even worth missing work for. Yet, sometimes at night I'd
Speaker 1: wander into the living room and stare at our wedding photo,
Speaker 1: us on the riverwalk, city blur fading into sunshine, arms
Speaker 1: around each other mid laugh, I could remember the weather
Speaker 1: the streak of wine spill on her dress. She decided
Speaker 1: to ignore it. Seemed like a different life wishuring everything
Speaker 1: was easy expected. When did that shift? When did lighting
Speaker 1: each other and turn into a series of closed doors?
Speaker 1: After ten days of letting my death's pile up, I
Speaker 1: finally work up the courage to talk. Not an interrogation,
Speaker 1: not an accusation, just a hey, this is weird. Right
Speaker 1: on a night when she came home before ten, I
Speaker 1: stled wine, tried to keep a casual almost joking. So
Speaker 1: Cameron's getting you into all the hot spots now or
Speaker 1: just running you rugged? I teased. She glanced at me sharply,
Speaker 1: then softened, dropping on to the couch beside me. Honestly,
Speaker 1: is exhausting. He's dealing with a nightmare divorce right now,
Speaker 1: and I sort of became his default confidante. I know
Speaker 1: it looks like a lot, but it's just been heavy.
Speaker 1: He's leaning on me, maybe more than he should. I pause.
Speaker 1: Are you okay with that? She exhaled, staring at her hands.
Speaker 1: I know it's been weird. I've been distant. I'm sorry, truly,
Speaker 1: I think I needed to feel like I was fixing something,
Speaker 1: holding things together at what as everything else fell apart
Speaker 1: around him, I'd a lost track of how it was
Speaker 1: messing with us. I'll poll back, You're more important. It's
Speaker 1: just been complicated. She set her glass down, her eyes
Speaker 1: shining more than I expected. I really am sorry, Jake, Plea,
Speaker 1: forgive me for being such a work zombie. Suddenly she
Speaker 1: looked like the hand I knew. Her posture slumped her
Speaker 1: defenses down. We hub it for a long time, not
Speaker 1: quite making promises, but acknowledge in the distance. I felt
Speaker 1: lighter after that, like some impossible tension had broken. The
Speaker 1: next week, we actually made dinner together twice. One night,
Speaker 1: we closed the laptops and sat at our little balcony table,
Speaker 1: laughing at something Dumdug posted. Friday, she joined me and
Speaker 1: pray for drinks, apologizing for being a ghost, promising she
Speaker 1: was coming back to herself. I let myself feel hope again,
Speaker 1: angry at my own distrust. Then the following Tuesday, as
Speaker 1: I was making coffee in the kitchen, I noticed an
Speaker 1: email on my phone at dinner reservation confirmation for HANNAHT. Bellemore,
Speaker 1: one of the swankiest restaurants in Fulton Market. Reservation mark
Speaker 1: for two the previous Thursday night. She told me she
Speaker 1: was fighting off a sinus infection and was asleep by
Speaker 1: nine that night. The reservation was under her full name,
Speaker 1: not the firm with the contact email I recognized as
Speaker 1: her personal I stared at it for a while before
Speaker 1: deleting it from her side of the innbrook. She must
Speaker 1: have used my phone at some point to check directions
Speaker 1: of something, accidentally saving log and details. I hesitated, not
Speaker 1: sure what to do. Maybe she'd gone with Cameron to
Speaker 1: smove out some client disaster. But Thursday was the night
Speaker 1: she'd made a big deal yel about feeling at death's door,
Speaker 1: no texts, no calls, claiming to have ordered soup and
Speaker 1: gone to bed. So why the high end dinner and
Speaker 1: who else would have been there? I waited for a
Speaker 1: time to bring it up, but lost my note every
Speaker 1: moment the subject threatened to appear. Instead, I hunted for explanations,
Speaker 1: trying to decode off finances for comfort. That's when I
Speaker 1: checked a credit card. My stomach went out when I
Speaker 1: saw a series of charges matching that dinner, multiple rounds
Speaker 1: of cocktails and stranger a single king suite at the Waldorf.
Speaker 1: The following Saturday, the same weekend, Hannah claimed to have
Speaker 1: an industry training in Milwaukee. I put the coffee down
Speaker 1: and texted Jamie, desperate for perspective, but unwilling to say
Speaker 1: too much. Hey, did you see Hannah at all last weekend?
Speaker 1: She was supposed to be out of town. Jamie took
Speaker 1: a while to respond. When he did, his answer was measured, careful. Actually,
Speaker 1: I saw her and Cameron at the new Gold Curse
Speaker 1: gallery opening late Saturday. It was just a minute, but
Speaker 1: it looked intense. I didn't ask, elt like maybe I shouldn't.
Speaker 1: My hand shook while I searched for something convincing, anything
Speaker 1: that would explain away these oval laps. I round sacked
Speaker 1: Hannah's desk while she was in the show, looking for project notes, invitations, anything, Instead,
Speaker 1: tucked between two sketch books, I found a small ivory
Speaker 1: envelope with blue ink on the flap, no address. Inside
Speaker 1: was a hand or to note, lupy masculine printing, thank
Speaker 1: you my sunbeam for everything. See. It was like gravity
Speaker 1: reverse for a second. I had to grip the edge
Speaker 1: of the desk to steady myself. Everything, the phone calls,
Speaker 1: the laughter, the guarded phone, the tailored explanations clicked into
Speaker 1: a shape I had been refusing to name that night.
Speaker 1: I didn't say anything. When she joined me in the kitchen,
Speaker 1: she smiled, made small talk about the new espresso place
Speaker 1: she found. I watched her trying to locate anything familiar,
Speaker 1: with some break in her expression, even a flicker of
Speaker 1: an apology. But her face was a careful mask, beautiful
Speaker 1: and impenetrable. I spent the next day in a haze,
Speaker 1: moving through meetings, sending emails, all the while, the card
Speaker 1: burning a hole in my pocket. Questions stacked on, questions,
Speaker 1: had it just started? Was it over? Have friends known
Speaker 1: all along and just protected me from myself? I tried
Speaker 1: pressing for more context. I asked about the Saturday charge
Speaker 1: the hotel in Milwaukee. She stiffened, Why are you checking receipts?
Speaker 1: I was just confused. I saw a bunch of charges
Speaker 1: on our statement. Bick weakened, she tense, voice brittle. It
Speaker 1: was all business, back to back events. I'm allowed to have,
Speaker 1: proud to see Jake. He told me you had food poisoning.
Speaker 1: She glared, cheeks bright. Why the inquisition, This is why
Speaker 1: it's so hard to talk. You twist everything. I backed off, stun,
Speaker 1: letting her have the last word. That night, she tucked
Speaker 1: herself into bedterily, leaving me in the blue light of
Speaker 1: the living room. I pined Jamie again, did something seem
Speaker 1: off between them? Did you say hi? He replied after
Speaker 1: a few minutes, just a nod. She seemed on edge.
Speaker 1: Cameron left early, Hanna stayed talking to a couple. I
Speaker 1: don't know. The threads were coming undern and with each tug,
Speaker 1: what had been plausible coincidences or stress fractures now appeared
Speaker 1: as deliberate seems, split open raw. Even then, I found
Speaker 1: myself wanting to believe her, not just for the comfort
Speaker 1: of the routine, but for the memory of us as
Speaker 1: the couple Everyone envied, Why would she risk it all
Speaker 1: for some one as what charismatic excited by her ideas?
Speaker 1: Was it me who had drifted Zebborie? Now to chain
Speaker 1: to my own work, too content to hide behind the
Speaker 1: safety net of yours? At work, I found myself distracted,
Speaker 1: watching as coffee cooled in my cup. Colleagues would pass
Speaker 1: by ask if I was coming to lunch, if I
Speaker 1: was feeling of kay I'd gnawed, mumble something about performance reports,
Speaker 1: and try to snap myself awake. But the truth was
Speaker 1: I felt ground down, selbstitute it in my own life.
Speaker 1: Late at night, I'd listened for her voice in the hallway.
Speaker 1: Sometimes I'd hear it against mood, careful, the warmth barely
Speaker 1: concealed beneath professional phrasing. I've realized I couldn't remember the
Speaker 1: last time she'd called me by any private nickname. All
Speaker 1: often tucked herself beside me on the couch just to talk,
Speaker 1: to be close. I wondered how long I would keep waiting,
Speaker 1: hope in the poem would ring with the sound of
Speaker 1: ust again, when what rang out was just what remained.
Speaker 1: It embarrassing how suspicion can twist an otherwise reasonable person
Speaker 1: into a detective or a coward. I found myself in
Speaker 1: moments of total stillness, standing at the kitchen, counter pretending
Speaker 1: sort mail, lighting my gaze, wonder to her Hanna's back
Speaker 1: slump beside the bench, daring myself to open it, digging
Speaker 1: for any hint of a hidden message or a different
Speaker 1: kind of receipt. I never did. I hated that I
Speaker 1: even wandered in a direction, because there is nothing less
Speaker 1: attractive than neediness dressed up as paranoia, but the compulsion,
Speaker 1: once it grabbed hold, was relentless. The smallest inconsistencies would
Speaker 1: stick with me reeply on a mental loop at Thursday morning,
Speaker 1: when Hannah double checked the pockets of her blazer, then
Speaker 1: scrunched the fabric and sniffed of furtively as she worried
Speaker 1: about scent. She froze when I came into the bedroom,
Speaker 1: offered a tight smile, and left her head done, even
Speaker 1: though she always pulled it up for sight walks. I
Speaker 1: told myself, maybe she just felt different lately, wanted to
Speaker 1: reinvent herself the way people do in stressful chapters. I
Speaker 1: kept arranging the facts, shuffling them like cards in a
Speaker 1: slow game, half wanting to lose. On Friday, when I
Speaker 1: got home earlier than expected, a note was propped against
Speaker 1: the fruit bowl, still at the office. Should be home
Speaker 1: by midnight. Don't wait up, order that tire love x H.
Speaker 1: I opened the fridge, the leftovers from two nights earlier
Speaker 1: in the Stowe. The note itself weirdly formal for us.
Speaker 1: It made me think of her writing it out, pausing
Speaker 1: before the XH is off, weighing whether affection was expected
Speaker 1: or dangerous. I ate spoonfuls of cold curR, barely tasting
Speaker 1: any of it, and replayed her absence in my mind
Speaker 1: as if I could somehow substitute for closeness. I tried
Speaker 1: to busy myself folded laundry match socks. When I bent
Speaker 1: to pick up her jeans off the bedroom floor, a
Speaker 1: glossy business card tumbled out, white thick stock, navy text
Speaker 1: Cameron Blake EA Senior project architect Renner Slush Stapleton design.
Speaker 1: On the back a phone number, and in handwriting pick
Speaker 1: your lunch day s I stared at it longer than
Speaker 1: I meant to. Why carry y when she surely had
Speaker 1: his info already? How does one become so obvious and
Speaker 1: so careful at the same time. Card wasn't evidence. It
Speaker 1: could have been innocent, but I pressed it flat inside
Speaker 1: my notebook. A moment's later, Flushed with shame, I moved
Speaker 1: it to the bottom drawer of my desk. I called
Speaker 1: Doug that night. I needed some normalcy, and dog specialized
Speaker 1: in the kind of casual friendship that never threatened too
Speaker 1: much intimacy. I offered Happy Hour. He hesitated, then surprised
Speaker 1: me by agreeing. So Hannah still drowning in blueprints, he asked,
Speaker 1: when we met two hours later at Butcher's Tap. Yeah,
Speaker 1: this Kennelworth thing is apparently the moon landing of office projects,
Speaker 1: Doug snorted. I ran into her and the camera and
Speaker 1: do last week. Actually they were at table Donkey and
Speaker 1: Stick looked like they were potting wild domination is Key
Speaker 1: as slick as he seems. Wait, don't answer that. They'll
Speaker 1: make me feel bad about myself. I forced all off
Speaker 1: and down half my beer. Supposedly he's going through some
Speaker 1: messy personal stuff that I keep telling myself. There just
Speaker 1: walking late, Doug gave me a look the kund that
Speaker 1: balances on the line of concern and awkwardness. Will everyone
Speaker 1: loves new blood at the firm. Maybe she just needs
Speaker 1: to win this one. You guys good. Otherwise we're fine,
Speaker 1: I said, trying to believe it. He picked at the
Speaker 1: napkin O Listen, not my business. But if you ever
Speaker 1: need to crash on my couch for a change of scenery. Hell,
Speaker 1: I'll even let you pick the movie. Appreciate not necessary
Speaker 1: a load, pushing away the burn in my throat. When
Speaker 1: I got home, the apartment was dark, her shoes were
Speaker 1: in their usual place by the door, jacket hanging on
Speaker 1: the rack. I wandered down the hole quietly and pushed
Speaker 1: her study door open. The faint smell of her perfume lingered,
Speaker 1: mixed with whatever cologne Cameron favored these days on her desk,
Speaker 1: her sketch book, a clothes MacBook, nothing out of the
Speaker 1: ordinary in bed, I waited for movement, for some noise
Speaker 1: from her side, shuffling under covers, the clearing of her
Speaker 1: throat before sleep. Instead, she entered hours later, slipped out
Speaker 1: of her clothes in the dark, and crawled into bit wordlessly.
Speaker 1: Her body was turned away, so I n curved in
Speaker 1: that familiar don't wake meat shape. I lay awake, again,
Speaker 1: torn between waking her for honesty and letting her sleep
Speaker 1: to preserve my allusion. Saturday day, I text to Jamie
Speaker 1: and Priye about brunch. We miss you too, Priya replied,
Speaker 1: is Hannah runt? I covered for her again, tied up
Speaker 1: at work, but I'll make it. That turned into me
Speaker 1: alone at little cafe with the two of them, and
Speaker 1: a crescendo of jokes about turning irregular couple's brunch into
Speaker 1: single support group. More importantly, it drew out another oddity. Jamie,
Speaker 1: after a bloody marry or two, leaned over and said, quietly,
Speaker 1: is hano k? She barely spoke last time we saw her.
Speaker 1: I made a joke about running late, and she basically
Speaker 1: bit my head off. Felt off. Priya nodded. She's usually
Speaker 1: the first to rouse Jaimie, but she was super defensive,
Speaker 1: not just work stuff. Her question was gentle, but loaded.
Speaker 1: I did my best to reassure them. I heard the
Speaker 1: concerned layer with something else. May be suspicion, or maybe
Speaker 1: just the faint judgment that hovers in long friendships when
Speaker 1: someone pulls away. I wondered if I could ask them
Speaker 1: what they really thought, but cowardice. One that evening, while
Speaker 1: folding towels, I went looking for clean pillow cases and
Speaker 1: Hannah's dresser. Under a stack of hodies, I found a
Speaker 1: receipt crumpled, faded Abigail's florist Peenies, wrapped card attached, thankye you,
Speaker 1: sambim my chest seized Thursday four, eighteen p m. A
Speaker 1: bouquet she never brought home, mentioning no one's birthday, no
Speaker 1: visible flowers in our house. The handwriting on the card
Speaker 1: to just to sy matched the note I'd found days earlier.
Speaker 1: I stood frozen, clutching the paper. Was to night the
Speaker 1: night I laid all my cards on the table. I
Speaker 1: sat on the bed, willing myself to move, to confront,
Speaker 1: to clarify, anything but live in this fark. By midnight,
Speaker 1: she hadn't come home. At one I rang her phone
Speaker 1: straight to voicemail. I lay down on the bed, the
Speaker 1: receipt on my chest, counting passing headlights as this strip
Speaker 1: the ceiling. I woke to the sound of her keys
Speaker 1: hitting the counter and the bathroom force it turning on.
Speaker 1: I blinked at the clock, three seventeen a m. She
Speaker 1: moved quietly, conscious of every creaking board. I sat up
Speaker 1: as she entered. She started when she saw the hallway light. Hay,
Speaker 1: didn't mean to wake you, she whispered, sliding her shoes
Speaker 1: off slowly. I tried to keep my tone neutral. You
Speaker 1: were late, she paused, eyes adjusting, lost track of time.
Speaker 1: Cameron and I grabbed a drink after the sight visit
Speaker 1: to decompress. The inspection was a mess. Sorry, I should
Speaker 1: have checked my phone, but it died. I nodded, searching
Speaker 1: her face. Did you bring flowers home? She frowned, then shrugged,
Speaker 1: busying herself with her phone. Now, why nothing? Just saw
Speaker 1: a florist receipt in the laundry. She offered a lopse,
Speaker 1: I did smire. Probably old. Sometimes the firm sends flowers
Speaker 1: to clients. I have a million stray receipts. A plausible
Speaker 1: lie rapped in a casual tone. I dropped it, telling
Speaker 1: myself I was digging for a problem where none existed.
Speaker 1: She changed and climbed into bed, turning away before I
Speaker 1: could try to reach for her. In the morning, she
Speaker 1: was gone before I awoke, a clutch of email pings
Speaker 1: vibrating her absence into the apartment. At work, my concentration dipped.
Speaker 1: I submitted a dick with two missing slides. My boss
Speaker 1: flagged an emil riddled with typos in the men's room.
Speaker 1: I stared at myself for a long minute, trying to
Speaker 1: remember when I stopped looking like some one who could
Speaker 1: trust his own life. Still, there were small moments when
Speaker 1: routine lifted me. I'd see if photoprayus and Hannah open
Speaker 1: molded and laughing, her eyes shining was something unguarded That
Speaker 1: person felt further away each day. The following Thursday, after
Speaker 1: another brought in a consolation. I woked the five blocks
Speaker 1: to her office with a paper bag full of takeoff
Speaker 1: from the Vietnamese place we used to love. My chest
Speaker 1: run between hope and dread. Maybe she'd be grateful, Maybe
Speaker 1: she'd be annoyed. Maybe maybe maybe. As Candon took the
Speaker 1: elevator to the ninth floor and found the office mostly dark.
Speaker 1: Down the hall, one conference room glowed, I heard voices.
Speaker 1: Who was among them? Smooth and lovely, but more formal
Speaker 1: than at home. Through the glass I saw a tableau
Speaker 1: Hannah and Cameron facing each other, lapped up side by side,
Speaker 1: empty soad cans on the to go coffee cup dotted
Speaker 1: the table. Her shoes were off, he cult under her,
Speaker 1: her hair up and away I hadn't seen in weeks.
Speaker 1: I hesitated, then tap lightly. Cameron looked up first, grinning,
Speaker 1: Jake the hero, her husband, bringing a sustenance. Hannah startled,
Speaker 1: shifting in her chair. Hey, I didn't realize it was
Speaker 1: so late. She stood, smoothing her blouse. You didn't have
Speaker 1: to come all the way out. She sounded annoyed, but
Speaker 1: made space for me. As Cameron stretched and said, you've
Speaker 1: got to keep her hair, she shot him a short
Speaker 1: glanced something onside. Passing between them, I handed over the food.
Speaker 1: He didn't want you starving again. We ate together uneasily.
Speaker 1: I watched them trade glances inside, jokes bubbling at the
Speaker 1: edges of their conversation. I tried to join in, but
Speaker 1: fumbled when I reached over for her hand. She didn't notice.
Speaker 1: After ten minutes, I excuse myself, saying I had narrowly
Speaker 1: meeting an obvious lie. Hannah walked me to the elevator.
Speaker 1: There she exhaled, Jake work his nuts right now. I
Speaker 1: appreciate you, but please let me have some peace. I
Speaker 1: promise I'll make it up to you. I nodded, kissed
Speaker 1: her cheek. She stood stiffly, and as the elevator doors closed,
Speaker 1: I saw her shoulders drop, relief softening her profile. That night,
Speaker 1: I passed the time pacing. I opened our share bank
Speaker 1: cap cross referencing charges. Nothing outright damning, but more restaurant haves.
Speaker 1: Another uber ride at leaped inexplicably between her office River
Speaker 1: North and back again at midnight on audacious War. She
Speaker 1: was home early. The digital paper trail was coage, just
Speaker 1: enough to make me crazy, never enough to confront on Saturday,
Speaker 1: my mother Motha called me while Hannah was in the shower.
Speaker 1: You two coming for dinner tomorrow. I have chicken marinating already,
Speaker 1: should be, as far as I know. Hanna is working
Speaker 1: from home for once, I said, forcing casualness though well.
Speaker 1: She mentioned Cameron might need help on Sunday. He's lucky
Speaker 1: to have someone so loyal at the office. He sounds
Speaker 1: brilliant from what she says. She waited for me to respond,
Speaker 1: as if expecting some corroboration. Yeah, he seems good at
Speaker 1: what he does. I heard her smile through the phone.
Speaker 1: You two still managing to get time together. It's easy
Speaker 1: to drift with these career We're working on it, I said,
Speaker 1: surprising myself with the honesty my voice. After I hung up,
Speaker 1: I watched Hannah bustle around the bedroom, twel wrapped, humming.
Speaker 1: She barely noticed my gaze. Sunday's dinner in eventsd and
Speaker 1: was more of the same. Hannah and her mom discussing work,
Speaker 1: Dad peering at his phone, me playing along. When a
Speaker 1: question of Cameron came up again, I watched Hannah's face closely.
Speaker 1: She brightened when his name surfaced, Enthusiasm breezing through her voice.
Speaker 1: On the ride home, I brought it up. You talk
Speaker 1: about Cameron a lot, She shrugged and fazed. He's in
Speaker 1: half my meetings. If I don't talk about him, Mam
Speaker 1: assumes something's wrong at work. Do you like him? She paused,
Speaker 1: giving me a full NOI glance. Don't be weird. He's
Speaker 1: just a partner on the project. It's not like that.
Speaker 1: I forced to laugh. I'm just jealous. You have work friends.
Speaker 1: My colleagues mostly talk about tik toks. I don't understand,
Speaker 1: she snorted, then fell silent, finger scrolling through her email.
Speaker 1: A few nights later, she showered before bed and eutine.
Speaker 1: She'd come out in pajamas, hair wet and smelling faintly
Speaker 1: opened something sharper and unfamiliar clone. When I asked about it,
Speaker 1: she said, I tried Cameron's forest conditioner. He keeps it
Speaker 1: at the office. Couldn't resist. I let it go. But
Speaker 1: the details added up, making a shape I didn't have
Speaker 1: the courage to name yet. I found myself searching her
Speaker 1: face for clues, as if I might catch her mid confession.
Speaker 1: Sex between us faded into careful politeness. The attempts either
Speaker 1: felt mechanical, or or brushed off with its causes, too tired,
Speaker 1: too much on her mind, or remind me in the morning,
Speaker 1: delivered with a quick kiss to the forehead. The tension
Speaker 1: pressed down at every intersection of routine. I kept catching myself,
Speaker 1: remembering how not long ago she'd crawl into my arms
Speaker 1: just to be touched, just because she could. Now I
Speaker 1: barely glimpsed her skin indilate. By the end of the month,
Speaker 1: my solace came from habits, running the lagron, knocking out,
Speaker 1: debtless at the jam, texting Dog or Jamie, un committally,
Speaker 1: just to full space. One night, I came home early
Speaker 1: and found Hannah asleep on the couch and Netflix's Cream
Speaker 1: Save dancing on the TV. Her phone buzzed with the
Speaker 1: texts from Cameron. The preview said, still up, Sunbeam. She
Speaker 1: stirred as I picked it up to place at the
Speaker 1: coffee table. She wished for it instantly sitting up. Her
Speaker 1: hair tasseled, just work. Sorry, I fell asleep. Her body
Speaker 1: was taut, an edge of annoyance simmering. I said nothing,
Speaker 1: making a joke about the world's most boring documentary in
Speaker 1: the queue. She forced a laugh and zipped away. To
Speaker 1: the bedroom her phone in hand. The next day, we
Speaker 1: sat together for breakfast in rare daylight. The coffee was
Speaker 1: too strong, and I tried to focus on anything other
Speaker 1: than her phone lighting up with silent, unreadable notifications. But
Speaker 1: let's get out of town next month, I suggested, even
Speaker 1: just a night away. We need it. She set her
Speaker 1: mug down a fraction too hard. Jake, I've said that
Speaker 1: this quarter is shot for anything fun. We could make
Speaker 1: something work Michigan or justicification. She cut me off, voice brittle.
Speaker 1: I get it, you want to do something. I just
Speaker 1: want to get through this month without letting anyone down.
Speaker 1: The energy between us crackled with a new coldness. I
Speaker 1: nodded aquest. The meal ended in silence. Later that night,
Speaker 1: confronted by loneliness, I checked our shared social calendar. She'd
Speaker 1: erase group dinner's brunches, even her own b of the
Speaker 1: weekend plans, work all of it. When I asked if
Speaker 1: she wanted to celebrate, she said, this year, I just
Speaker 1: want quiet. I could feel my own patience were knowing
Speaker 1: the person beside me was not the person I knew.
Speaker 1: But I couldn't cut over the fear of confirming what
Speaker 1: I already sensed desperate. I began searching for hope. I
Speaker 1: replayed every apology she made for the distance, every soft
Speaker 1: promise that she just needed time. I remembered the very
Speaker 1: good days a Sunday in July, when wheelingered over brunch,
Speaker 1: laughing about nothing, stealing bites of each other's pancakes. Those
Speaker 1: hours seemed fleeting press but they were proof that us existed,
Speaker 1: at least in moments. Still, every gentle memory twisted with
Speaker 1: the possibility that her mind was somewhere else, or with
Speaker 1: someone else altogether. Eventually the weight became too much. I
Speaker 1: caught myself standing in our hallway, clutching a note from Cameron.
Speaker 1: The inksmudged from sweaty hands, heart pounding in my chest
Speaker 1: like a challenge. I wanted answers. I wanted proof that
Speaker 1: I was wrong or right. It turned out I couldn't
Speaker 1: burt to choose which. I sat motionless at the edge
Speaker 1: of the bed, The crumpled florest receipt pressed for beneath
Speaker 1: my palm, and my mouth dry from all the words
Speaker 1: had swallowed. Hannah's side of the bed was already growing
Speaker 1: cool in the early dawn. The last trace of her
Speaker 1: presence marked by twist of hair on her pillow. If
Speaker 1: I moved, it would be to face the truth I'd
Speaker 1: spent months dancing around. I thought of the card to
Speaker 1: thank you my sunbeam for everything, and felt something hollow
Speaker 1: and metallic settle in my chest. There was no coming
Speaker 1: back from this. My hand shirk, but all I could
Speaker 1: do was press my finger tips to my temples and
Speaker 1: stare at the half lits gallon outside, counting the floors
Speaker 1: of buildings where a parallel life might have played out
Speaker 1: and ended differently. She came home again late, boots squeaking
Speaker 1: on the tiles, arms full of plans and samples, her
Speaker 1: face expressioness in the kitchen's harshly de halo. She didn't
Speaker 1: see me ride away. Only when I stepped into the
Speaker 1: light did she startle, her guard flickering up so fast
Speaker 1: a flinched couldn't sleep, I said, foys flat from the
Speaker 1: hours of lying awake. She dropped her tope by the
Speaker 1: chair and tangling her scarf. You look like you haven't
Speaker 1: eat her. I nodded, unsure what would come next, begging
Speaker 1: anger and comprehension. I needed to talk. She paused, pressing
Speaker 1: her lips tight eyes darting. Is something wrong? Her question
Speaker 1: too careful, the syllable drawn out, like she was prepping
Speaker 1: for a speech. I didn't answer, only watched her. You
Speaker 1: came in at three last night, didn't answer your phone?
Speaker 1: That waited? She shrugged, attempting nonchalance, but coming up short.
Speaker 1: Lost track of time. We went over designs t I'm sorry.
Speaker 1: I should have texted. We need to talk, Hannah. I
Speaker 1: whispered about everything right now. For a moment I thought
Speaker 1: she might implode or simply walk out, but she stayed still,
Speaker 1: every muscle in her face warring between fear, anger, and exhaustion.
Speaker 1: The distance between us was as palpable as a wall,
Speaker 1: broken only by her size. She sat across from me,
Speaker 1: hans knotted at the edge of the table, the weight
Speaker 1: of twelve. When spoke an argument settled in the space,
Speaker 1: thick and suffocating, Fine, she said, almost inaudibly, I'm listening.
Speaker 1: I pushed the florist receipt and a card from Cameron
Speaker 1: across the table, stacking them atop a pile of print
Speaker 1: outs dinner reservations, hotel charges, a bank statement with markos
Speaker 1: D circled and then uncircled, heading every second of my
Speaker 1: detective work. She stared at them, expression unreadable for a beat.
Speaker 1: Nothing happened, just the hum of the refrigerator and my
Speaker 1: frantic heart. Are you going to explain? I asked a question,
Speaker 1: coming out rougher than I meant. For the first time,
Speaker 1: she looked over, older than six years of marriage should
Speaker 1: make anyone. She opened her mouth, shut it, then picked
Speaker 1: up the card, as if seeing it for the first time.
Speaker 1: I watched her shoulders rise then fall, slow and heavy.
Speaker 1: It started out as work, she muttered, All of it
Speaker 1: were recovering for clients staying late. She blinked, her tongue
Speaker 1: derving out to touch her toplet. Then Cameron started talking
Speaker 1: about his divorce. I felt like I had to be
Speaker 1: there for him, I waited, Paul, studding in my ears.
Speaker 1: I am being there for him, meant Denner's flowers, hotel rooms.
Speaker 1: A tear spilled down one cheek. I didn't plan any
Speaker 1: of it. He made me feel seen. I don't even
Speaker 1: know if I can explain it. You were always busy
Speaker 1: with your own work, your own friends. I started feeling
Speaker 1: alone in this apartment. Everything was happening at once. I
Speaker 1: tried to just be a friend to him. She looked down,
Speaker 1: but it changed. He lied. I tried to keep the
Speaker 1: tremor from my voice. Her face twisted in a mix
Speaker 1: of shame and defensiveness. What was I supposed to do?
Speaker 1: He questioned everything? He started snooping track in charges. How
Speaker 1: was I supposed to trust you with it? I couldn't
Speaker 1: help myself. Trust me with what the truth? That's what
Speaker 1: you say after disappearing for nights, after I find a
Speaker 1: note calling you sunbeam, her jaw sat. I never wanted
Speaker 1: to hurt you. I don't know when it stopped being harmless.
Speaker 1: He needed me, and I needed to feel something not numb.
Speaker 1: I stared at her, at the familiar pattern on the
Speaker 1: edge of her sleeve, at the line of her collar bone.
Speaker 1: And I didn't give you. That wasn't I here every night,
Speaker 1: picking up when you dropped out, making the excuses, holding
Speaker 1: this together. She led out a choke sound, half angry,
Speaker 1: half miserable. I'm not blaming you, Jake. I know I
Speaker 1: fucked this up. The compulsion to hit back rose like
Speaker 1: bile you did. She let the car go, letting it
Speaker 1: flut on to the pile of receipts. I know it's
Speaker 1: over with him, and I ended it a week ago.
Speaker 1: I wanted to come back fix things. I just didn't
Speaker 1: know where to start. You could have started by not
Speaker 1: treating me like a stranger in my own house, I said,
Speaker 1: by not lying every night. I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry.
Speaker 1: The tears now came in earnest, streaking her cheeks, her shoulders, huns,
Speaker 1: like she could fold herself out of sigh. I stood,
Speaker 1: unable to bear the closeness. Go to your mother's hand.
Speaker 1: I can't. I won't watch you lie any more. She
Speaker 1: stared up at me, just like that. You are giving up. No,
Speaker 1: you did. She buried her face in her palms, sobbing quietly,
Speaker 1: while I retreated to the balcony the city below, breathing
Speaker 1: with indifference the world and change except in the conterurs
Speaker 1: of my heart by Darwin. The kitchen stood empty. I
Speaker 1: hastily pecked auffel bag lane against the wall. A note,
Speaker 1: her handwriting slanted and precise, waited by the coffee maker.
Speaker 1: I'll be a MAM's let me know if you want
Speaker 1: to talk. I'm so sorry. H The first minutes alone
Speaker 1: were filled with anger, but it called to something else.
Speaker 1: As I made coffee and stood in the tea bride kitchen,
Speaker 1: The refrigerator hummed, and the apartment looked like a fun
Speaker 1: house version of what we built together, all the same furniture,
Speaker 1: but each object glinting with betrayal. I slumped into the
Speaker 1: chair with my mug, staring at the spot where the
Speaker 1: card had been. I texted Prey and Jamie short and
Speaker 1: to the point Hanna's moved out. We're done, Pray called instantly,
Speaker 1: but I ignored it, not ready for sympathy or explanations.
Speaker 1: Doug sent a meme of tea penguins walking apart, and
Speaker 1: for the first time, his timing fell flat. In the
Speaker 1: hours that followed, I deleted her birthday reminders from my phone,
Speaker 1: archived our chat, and dragged albums of photos into a
Speaker 1: folder labeled old Life. My thumb hovered over a deleet
Speaker 1: before I stopped closing the laptop with a decisive snap.
Speaker 1: There would be time for a rasure for now. The
Speaker 1: remnants of our live person on all sides, from the
Speaker 1: stack of record sleeves under the TV to the mug.
Speaker 1: She always reached for a chip just below the handle.
Speaker 1: Hannah texted only once, let me know when I can
Speaker 1: pick up the rest of my staff. I read it
Speaker 1: three times before responding with the simple we'll be gone Sunday.
Speaker 1: Take what you need, in a silence that belt over
Speaker 1: the next days. Everything in the apartment became an artifact,
Speaker 1: her coat still hanging by the door, of a stray
Speaker 1: tube of mascara in the bathroom, the faint hint of
Speaker 1: her perfume on the bed sheets. I caught myself pausing
Speaker 1: at the wedding photo, tracing a line from her shoulder
Speaker 1: to mine before flipping it face down. Sleep refused to
Speaker 1: anchor me. I'd wakened the darkness, certain I heard her
Speaker 1: coming in, only to remember each time that the only
Speaker 1: sands were the wind off the lake and the city's
Speaker 1: on ending chair. In the world outside didn't care. A
Speaker 1: neighbor's dog barked, tie splashed, and puddles. The dormant smiled
Speaker 1: like nothing had changed. But every time I unlocked the
Speaker 1: front door, Hannah's absence expanded, familiar things now barely recognizable.
Speaker 1: Even the plant seemed to droop with shared exhaustion. At work,
Speaker 1: I told my boss I needed a couple days. He nodded,
Speaker 1: didn't press for details, his voice warm in a way
Speaker 1: that made me want to cry. I spent the morning
Speaker 1: responding to meaningless emails, the only evidence of a continuing life.
Speaker 1: That Saturday, my hand hovered over to ring dish in
Speaker 1: our bedroom as I slid off my wedding band, watching
Speaker 1: its spin gently until it stilled. I stared at the
Speaker 1: empty circle on my finger, marveling how such a small
Speaker 1: change could make me feel erased and unmoured. At the
Speaker 1: same instant, emails from Hanna arrived and were despatched into
Speaker 1: a new fold of formal called I'll come by Monday
Speaker 1: for clothes. Please forward anything urgent from my office. On Sunday,
Speaker 1: I left early, walking the wet streets with aching calves
Speaker 1: lighting the wind on my face. When I returned, there
Speaker 1: were two fewer coats in the front closet, and underwear
Speaker 1: missing from the top drawer. No note this time, only
Speaker 1: a lonely open drawer, leaking a ghost of her perfume.
Speaker 1: For a while, I tried filling the silences with music,
Speaker 1: but every playlist fell off, the routines stripped of her
Speaker 1: presence and spooled in my hands. Movie nights acclaimed, Friday
Speaker 1: dinners unpanned. The Sunday cross was left and touched on
Speaker 1: the kitchen table. Friends called sat TeX's off for dinner.
Speaker 1: I begged for space, promising the story when it was
Speaker 1: less raw. Even on group chat, the conversations tangled, everyone
Speaker 1: going careful, apologetic, and certain where humor might fit. That week,
Speaker 1: I finished the last bottle of her favorite red without
Speaker 1: tasting it. I sat on the couch, watching headlights glint
Speaker 1: off the glass, certain that every sound heralded her return.
Speaker 1: But the apartment's stillness marked me. Every shadow waited by absence.
Speaker 1: On the kitchen counter, her mongstood sentinel, daring me to
Speaker 1: sweep it away and risk forgetting how often she claimed
Speaker 1: it always just to retasee the first sip. The paperwork
Speaker 1: and practicalities accumulated, formal emails about who would take which
Speaker 1: pieces of furniture, what builds to cancel, who would notify
Speaker 1: the landlord if either of us left. But even as
Speaker 1: tasks forced me to act, the core remained on. No
Speaker 1: rage left, only the ache of a vanished life. I
Speaker 1: stared at blunt pages, the coasts of blinking, unable to
Speaker 1: bring myself to right explanations for family, for colleagues, for
Speaker 1: anyone not already in the loop. When I drifted into
Speaker 1: a now hollow bedroom for the night. They made bed
Speaker 1: and cool sheets, balkoed me and taunted me in equal measure.
Speaker 1: Monday afternoon, I came home early to find the remaining
Speaker 1: traces cleared, her favorite lamp as, scattering of jewey trays,
Speaker 1: even the battered hark over she insisted on reading every winter,
Speaker 1: the closet yelling half empty. Stared back in the bathroom,
Speaker 1: all her bottles and tubes were gone, replaced by a
Speaker 1: sharp sound of cleaning spray. Left behind was a single
Speaker 1: sticky note on the vanity I'll send my new address.
Speaker 1: I love you still, h I bawled it in my fists,
Speaker 1: then let it flutter into the trash. I moved from
Speaker 1: room to room, taking inventory not of objects, but vacancies.
Speaker 1: The couch where we'd argued and forgiven, the balcony where
Speaker 1: she once asked if I'd ever stopped loving the city,
Speaker 1: the door we were she leave each morning, head held high,
Speaker 1: the well bending toward her every confident stride. That night,
Speaker 1: as I deleted date night reminders from my calendar and
Speaker 1: swhite through photos, their group chap pained a joke from
Speaker 1: dub trying too high pray as immediate gentle nudge for
Speaker 1: a dinner. I drafted a reply, then erased it, pocketing
Speaker 1: my phone and stepping into the night air. I walked
Speaker 1: the loop of our block three times before coming home.
Speaker 1: Each passed reminding me of what was gone and more remained.
Speaker 1: When I stepped inside, the silence pressed against me, but
Speaker 1: I didn't run from it. I stood at the window,
Speaker 1: a cup of cold coffee in hand, watching the city
Speaker 1: pulse and shift beneath me, and let the truce settle.
Speaker 1: There was nothing left to uncover, only the hard, clean
Speaker 1: edge of an ending I hadn't chosen. I stayed by
Speaker 1: the window as the sun went down, watched the gold
Speaker 1: fade and navy in the city's light, strawvae constellations across
Speaker 1: the river. It was a view I'd once loved at
Speaker 1: first to through this apartment, Hannah's hand finding mine as
Speaker 1: she pointed out every scala and lamark, swearing she could
Speaker 1: see exactly where her old studio used to be, suring
Speaker 1: the same wonder as me at our good fortune to
Speaker 1: land here. Now, all that felt remote, as though it
Speaker 1: had been conjured by some other couple. We'd both imbersonated
Speaker 1: for too long. I had paperwork to do for work
Speaker 1: and wade emails stacking up fast, but I couldn't look
Speaker 1: at any of it. Instead, I kept circling the apartment,
Speaker 1: touching surfaces I had polished and arranged in better times,
Speaker 1: opening and closing every cabinet. The space echoed with every footful.
Speaker 1: I noticed the absence of her things, as if it
Speaker 1: altered the gravity in each room. No mugs carefully rinsed
Speaker 1: and sat upside down, No stray sketches curled up beside
Speaker 1: the TV remote, no scarf draped over the arm chair.
Speaker 1: I tried to take comfort in the predictability of losing
Speaker 1: things in stages, but it didn't help. I moved aimlessly
Speaker 1: until hunger finally drove me out and I ordered media
Speaker 1: could take out just enough to keep my hands busy.
Speaker 1: By the time the food arrived, night had erased the
Speaker 1: skyline and the city below was just starts and lines
Speaker 1: moving past in a hum that didn't quite touch me.
Speaker 1: I sat at the kitchen counter, scrolling through messages from friends.
Speaker 1: Most stays silent except for check in, short, careful invitations
Speaker 1: that required nothing of me. It made sense. I knew
Speaker 1: they waited for the awkward first drinks. The roundabout story
Speaker 1: where pain could be washed out with jokes and low lighting.
Speaker 1: I wasn't ready for the full disclosure, not yet. Every
Speaker 1: conversation still felt like any detail might drow blood. A
Speaker 1: few days later I came home to find Jamie waiting
Speaker 1: on the sidewalk, shifting from foot to foot in the chill.
Speaker 1: He was the last person I expected in all our years.
Speaker 1: Jamie was never early and never eager for confrontation. His
Speaker 1: hair I was wind blown, jackets sap halfway against the
Speaker 1: spring cold. Hey, I said, surprised. He smiled, nurse plain,
Speaker 1: saw your text, didn't want you to bail. I shrugged,
Speaker 1: I'm not much company. Jamie followed me upstairs. Hans jammed
Speaker 1: in his pockets, looking around the apartment with the wide
Speaker 1: eyed curiosity of someone seeing it without its usual adornments.
Speaker 1: We're to be in here without half the crew, ha,
Speaker 1: I nodded, then busied myself fixing coffee I didn't want.
Speaker 1: Jamie took a mug, set it down in touch, and
Speaker 1: then finally gave me the look I've been avoiding. He
Speaker 1: want to talk or just let me sit here and
Speaker 1: critique your wife. I pass were I gave a short
Speaker 1: laugh that quickly faded and shook my head. There's nothing
Speaker 1: left to talk about. It was real and then it wasn't.
Speaker 1: She left. That's the sum of it. Jamie fiddled with
Speaker 1: the mug, not meeting my eyes. A Doug thinks he'll
Speaker 1: both wake up. Pres just pissed for you, he hesitated.
Speaker 1: I guess I should have said something the night I
Speaker 1: saw them at the gallery. I kept telling myself it
Speaker 1: was none of my business. But maybe that just made
Speaker 1: it easier for everyone to pretend it's not a fault.
Speaker 1: I said, a little sharper than I meant. He set
Speaker 1: his mug down. If there's anything you need anything, you know,
Speaker 1: we're here, right, I nodded, and willapse into a manageable silence,
Speaker 1: broken only by the usual apartment sounds, water through the pipes,
Speaker 1: and neighbor clattering up the stairs. Jamie left after twenty minutes,
Speaker 1: giving a quick squeeze to my shoulder as he went
Speaker 1: to text me. If you need out, he said simply,
Speaker 1: and was gone. That was how the next stretch passed, work,
Speaker 1: empty home messages from friends I couldn't bring myself to
Speaker 1: answer honestly. Saturday, the dorm in handed me an envel
Speaker 1: of my name and Hannah's handwriting forwarding a dress note,
Speaker 1: nothing else inside, just the necessary facts, no signature, just
Speaker 1: to cut flourish. At the end, I started counting the
Speaker 1: days in Errand's groceries, laundry, banking. I became obsessed with
Speaker 1: the narrative of what went missing and what stayed. Hanna's
Speaker 1: old umbrella in the hall closet, her batted slippers by
Speaker 1: the shy rack left behind like an invitation or perhaps
Speaker 1: a test. There was no way to pass the meaning
Speaker 1: from such things. I ordered myself again and again to
Speaker 1: stop hunting from meaning in the debris. One evening, about
Speaker 1: a week after she left, I gathered all traces, her scarfs, books,
Speaker 1: left over toiletries and bagged them, stacking everything on the
Speaker 1: hallway floor. I texted her, some of your things left.
Speaker 1: Let me know when you can pick them up. Quick reply,
Speaker 1: coming by tomorrow. Around six The next evening, I tried
Speaker 1: not to watch the clock. As six approached. I made
Speaker 1: a point of being busy, sorting laundry, trying to work,
Speaker 1: then standing at the window, mug in hand, rehearsing lines
Speaker 1: I would never actually use. Hannah arrived precisely at six,
Speaker 1: knocking quietly. I opened the door, stepped back as she entered.
Speaker 1: She looked smaller, not just in body, but in energy.
Speaker 1: Her hair was pinned back, her eyes tired, dark circles
Speaker 1: and softened by make up. She kept her coat on,
Speaker 1: as though ready to bolt at a moment's notice. We
Speaker 1: didn't hug. She glanced briefly around, her gaze skimming the hall,
Speaker 1: studying the pack bags. You got everything, she said, voice tide,
Speaker 1: I think so. If I missed anything, just let me know.
Speaker 1: She nodded, looking around, but never quite at me. For
Speaker 1: a second, I considered asking her to sip, to have coffee,
Speaker 1: to talk, anything to change the bleak rhythm of our
Speaker 1: parting that the words caught. Instead, I watched as she
Speaker 1: methodically gathered her things, hand steady, making quick trips to
Speaker 1: her copparked outside. On her last pass, she paused at
Speaker 1: the entry, hand on the door for him. Jake, thank you,
Speaker 1: she said, almost whispering for what My reply was brittle,
Speaker 1: for not making this even harder. A rush of words
Speaker 1: hovered on my tongue, accusation, longing even forgiveness, but I
Speaker 1: swallowed them instead. I just inclined my chin, stepping away
Speaker 1: to give her space. A leave. She hesitated again, her
Speaker 1: eyes filling with the shine of unshed tears. I did
Speaker 1: love you. I still am sorry for all of it.
Speaker 1: I shook my head, unable to offer the comfort she
Speaker 1: seemed to plead for you change everything. I can't pretend otherwise.
Speaker 1: She nodded once, lips pressed out against another apology. Then
Speaker 1: she was gone, the door clicking gently behind her footsteps
Speaker 1: fading down the corridor. After she left the apartment felt
Speaker 1: calvenous and strange, like a rent light stumbled into by accident.
Speaker 1: I found myself walking room to room, as though expecting
Speaker 1: to find something I'd missed, a behind shirt, a message
Speaker 1: waiting on the bathroom mirror. Instead, there was only emptiness.
Speaker 1: That night, I sat in darkness, needs pulled to my
Speaker 1: chest at top bea made bed, scrolling through old texts,
Speaker 1: her last real message before the break up weeks ago,
Speaker 1: felt bizarrely cheerful. I wondered how long she'd known this
Speaker 1: was inevitable, maybe months, maybe longer. E mails from friends trickled,
Speaker 1: and over the next few days invitations to drinks game
Speaker 1: nights a sad attempt setting me up for distraction. I declined, most,
Speaker 1: replying only to prey with the simple thanks. Not yet.
Speaker 1: The next major hit came from which ar my request
Speaker 1: for leave approved. The formal process brisk, efficient, and notterly
Speaker 1: indifferent to my actual dilemma. When I called my boss
Speaker 1: to confirm his warm responds, done anything you need, Jake,
Speaker 1: take care of yourself. The words were soft, but I
Speaker 1: didn't know what to do with kindness. I wandered through
Speaker 1: tasks with methodical emptiness, setting up mail forwarding, boxing Hannah's
Speaker 1: last coat for donation, putting away wedding gifts we'd never
Speaker 1: used in rare moments. The urge to call her was overwhelming,
Speaker 1: just to unwind the nod attention to ask what led
Speaker 1: mess to demand another explanation. But the weight of what
Speaker 1: was on said now pressed all those urges. Fat Sunday
Speaker 1: evening arrived, and with it the knowledge that my calendar
Speaker 1: was blank. Nothing scheduled, no dinners, no post brunch coffee,
Speaker 1: just the low pulse of traffic outside and the steady
Speaker 1: rhythm of my breath. I realized I hadn't said a
Speaker 1: word aloud all day. At almost midnight, I lauered into
Speaker 1: Instagram and scold Hannah's profile. She hadn't posted in weeks
Speaker 1: just a silent grid of old shots, open house tour
Speaker 1: roof doup parties as in Halloween costumes two lifetimes ago.
Speaker 1: The comments blew together friends who didn't yet know hearts
Speaker 1: and praise for a relationship that now felt like a
Speaker 1: rilic from another ear. I closed the app, set my
Speaker 1: fham face down, and went out on to the balcony.
Speaker 1: The city painted innon streaks below. For a moment, the
Speaker 1: wind off the lakes on my cheeks, and I breathed,
Speaker 1: filling my lungs, waiting for some sense of relief or
Speaker 1: clarity that did not come. The next afternoon, duck Hall insistent,
Speaker 1: you need to get up before you stop buying housepuns
Speaker 1: for company. I wasn't ready, but he was relentless, showing
Speaker 1: up at my door in a cup's hurdy and declaring
Speaker 1: he was on a Burger rescue mission. We ate in
Speaker 1: a new empty diner in Lakeview, and he filled the
Speaker 1: silence would harm this stories, local gossip, rumors about colleagues.
Speaker 1: He didn't ask about Hannah, didn't push for details. When
Speaker 1: I asked about Prix and Jamie, he said, they miss you.
Speaker 1: That's all. No one's picking sides. We talked around the
Speaker 1: subject never threw it. When it was time to leave,
Speaker 1: Doug paid for luncheon, told me only let us know
Speaker 1: when you want us back in your orbit. The simplicity
Speaker 1: of it cracked something open. I thank Kim, voice ruff
Speaker 1: back in the apartment. Evening fell, and I noticed how
Speaker 1: the routine was different now, no expectation for her key
Speaker 1: in the lock, no anticipation, no dread. Everything was quiet,
Speaker 1: a still version of our old rhythms. I pinged eycharn
Speaker 1: set my email too, out of office. It was the
Speaker 1: first decision that felt entirely mine in weeks. Preya texted
Speaker 1: a dinner next Friday, even if you just want to
Speaker 1: sit silent. I almost declined, then caught myself. O k
Speaker 1: I replied, I'll come. A small, stubborn part of me
Speaker 1: anticipated the awkward laughter, the uneasy attempts to reclaim normalcy,
Speaker 1: but amid all that, there was an opening space in
Speaker 1: the silence that felt less oppressive, now more real. Over
Speaker 1: the next days, the city throwed towards spring. The air
Speaker 1: turned softer, Restaurants and frilled their patio umbrellas. Run as
Speaker 1: clustered at the lake. I started waking eirily, taking coffee
Speaker 1: on the balcony, letting my thoughts come without chasing them away.
Speaker 1: One evening, just short of sunset, I cleared the lust
Speaker 1: of Hanna's things from a shelf and found an old
Speaker 1: polaroid stuffed behind the stack of Boksas three years younger
Speaker 1: faces pressed together, city a light behind us, we both
Speaker 1: looked sunburned and delirious with laughing. For a long time,
Speaker 1: I just held it. I didn't cry, not exactly, but
Speaker 1: the weight in my chest shifted slow and shallow. At first.
Speaker 1: I slid the photo into a box lay will keep,
Speaker 1: put it in the coat closet, and stepped out onto
Speaker 1: our rooftop, coffee mug in hand. From up there, the
Speaker 1: city made its own music. Trains, horns, laughter, vibrating through
Speaker 1: concrete and steel. Lights flickered on behind row after row
Speaker 1: of windows, other lives blooming into view. Somewhere in another apartment,
Speaker 1: laughter rang out, un contained, in full, and I was
Speaker 1: almost startled by how it didn't cut any more. I
Speaker 1: closed my eyes, breathed and deep, feeling for once not
Speaker 1: the absence but the plain, blunt overness of what remained.
Speaker 1: There is nothing left on cover. The only thing left
Speaker 1: is to find out who I am now with Utter