At 9:06 p.m., a text: Can we talk tomorrow? No dropped pin. No puzzles. Just the question that sits between people when they’re trying not to disappoint each other anymore.
He typed, Yes. Your time, your place. I’ll be there and I’ll be quiet. He hit send and didn’t add a joke to make himself feel less afraid of sincerity.
He slept like someone had finally turned off the background hum in his head that said, fix it with noise.
