I just pretended I was fine.
Dominic noticed, of course. He always noticed.
“You’re blinking like a malfunctioning robot,” he said one morning as I poured my third coffee.
I stared straight ahead and went monotone. “Reboot in progress. Please do not attempt emotional diagnostics. Human functions temporarily offline.”
He huffed a quiet laugh and leaned in to kiss my temple, lingering there a second longer than necessary. “I’m not running diagnostics,” he murmured. “I’m just… monitoring for signs of imminent system failure.”
I shot him a look. “Wow.” A beat. “Rude.”
“Affectionate,” he corrected softly, already reaching for me again. He pressed a croissant into my hand like it was a peace offering. “Eat. This unit is critically under-fueled.”
I took it. I even meant to eat it.
Then forgot about it until an hour later, when it was cold and I was already late again.
My calendar continued to look like a mosaic of overlapping obligations. Colors bleeding into each other. Green and blue, for class and shoots, dominated the view. Yellow had presence, But the purple? I snorted.
The purple was so barely there, I didn’t think it qualified even as a suggestion anymore
I kept telling myself it was temporary.
Just this week. Just this project. Just until things settled.
Things never settled.
They just accumulated.
The nameless girl texted me on Thursday.
Two days before Dominic was leaving.
Unknown Number:
Still owe me that drink, you know.
I stared at the message longer than I meant to.
The timing was terrible. Or perfect. I wasn’t sure which anymore.
We were in the back of a cab, rain streaking down the windows like the city was dissolving into light. Dominic was half-asleep beside me, head tipped against the glass, jacket slung over my shoulders even though I hadn’t asked for it. His fingers were still loosely intertwined with mine, warm and familiar and real.
We’d just left a nightclub he’d found, sweaty and laughing and slightly drunk on each other. Music still thrummed faintly in my ears, my body pleasantly loose in a way that had nothing to do with caffeine or adrenaline.
We’d missed soup night for the first time on purpose. Invited the others. They’d waved us off and told us to go have fun.
We had.
And the strangest part was—I hadn’t even brought my camera.
Not as a joke. Not because I’d forgotten. I’d just… chosen not to. Chosen to leave it behind like it wasn’t part of my spine. Like I didn’t need to document the night to justify it.
I’d played hooky.
And I’denjoyedit.
My phone buzzed again before I could answer.
