Chapter 13
Phone lit on kitchen counter.
Screen glowed Amber. 9:47 p.m. Apartment dark except warm lamp over sink. Marina lights blurred through window. Air still smelled like coffee I'd reheated twice.
I stared half second. Breath caught. Thumb slipped then answered.
"Hey," I said.
Silence. Then her breath. Thin. She'd been crying or trying not to.
"Hey," she said. Voice low. Hoarse.
I leaned against counter. Black jacket hung on chair behind me. Gold chain cold against skin. "You called."
"I did," she said. Pause. "You still there? In apartment?"
"Yeah," I said. "Where else would I be."
She gave small laugh. No humor in it. "I wasn't sure. Thought maybe you'd go back to terrace."
I didn't. Hadn't left since silence started. Luggage still by door. Her patterned suitcase. Wheels locked. Pink top she'd left folded on bed still there too.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Not really," she said. Another pause. I heard traffic behind her. Announcement muffled. "I kept replaying that night. On terrace. Your face. How you looked at me."
My throat tightened. Tears burned before I could stop them. "Me too."
"I told you few days," she said. "Like it was nothing. Like I'd be right back."
Few days had become two weeks. Extension email. Silence. My line about home. Her absence proving it true.
She breathed. Then said it. Exact words. Different voice now. Older somehow.
"I didn't think saying goodbye for a few days would hurt this much," she said.
Air left me. Verb atim line back but hers now. Not my fear anymore. Her realization.
She let silence sit. I didn't interrupt.
"When I said it that night, I meant you," I had said. "Now you know?"
"Yeah," she whispered. "God, yeah. I do. Place they sent me is nice. Clean apartment. Nice people. Good opportunity. But I wake up and nothing feels right. No warm light. No your chain catching light. No marina. No you in kitchen. I keep thinking home is where I left my suitcase. But suitcase means nothing without you still there."
My hand gripped counter edge. Knuckles white. Neck tattoos itched with heat.
"So you extended?" I asked. Quiet.
"No," she said. Fast. "They offered extension. Permanent transfer. More money. Title. I told them no this morning. Said home isn't place you build alone. It's person who makes place feel like home. Your words. Your line. I kept hearing it. It's because this place only feels like home when you're in it. You were right."
Tears slipped now. I didn't wipe them. Let them fall.
"Where are you now?" I asked.
Rustle. Rolling sound. Wheels on tile.
"Train station," she said. "Nice. The one outside Monaco. I hated airport after terrace. Took train back early. Thought you'd want me to surprise you but I couldn't. Needed to hear your voice first."
Wheels again. Patterned luggage. Same one from terrace night.
"I'm on platform," she said. "Next train gets in 11:20. Monaco terrace bar side. Same station near apartment. Can you meet me? I have suitcase. Same one. I didn't unpack. Just turned around."
Clock said 9:52. Hour and half.
"You en route?" I asked.
"Ticket in hand," she said. "Platform cold. Scared you'll change mind if I don't come now."
I grabbed jacket. Chain swung. "Not changing mind. Coming."
"You're sure?" she asked. Small voice. Need in it.
"Yeah," I said. "Stay on phone till I get there?"
"Please," she said.
I lifted suitcase handle by door out of habit then left it. Hers needed me to bring nothing but myself.
Keys jangled. Door opened. Night air hit. Marina lights waited same as that night. Now promise not goodbye.
May you like
"Talk to me while I walk," I said.
"I'm here," she said. Breath steadied. "I'm coming home."
