“First time for everything.”
“Mark.”
There it is.
That tone.
The one beneath the sarcasm.
Actual concern.
I scrub a hand over my jaw.
“It’s Philip’s hamster.”
Another pause.
“Philip.”
“Yes.”
“I guess we are talking about the bloke from Whitstable?”
I go still.
I never actually told him that much.
Not directly.
Callum snorts on the other end.
“You disappeared off radar Friday night after saying someone caught your eye. You ignored me most of Saturday. You are now in possession of a hamster named Heath and have created a social media account for it. I’m not an idiot.”
Fair.
Heath remains hidden in the beanie like he wants no part in this.
“Philip is moving to Canada on Wednesday,” I say.
Silence.
Not because Callum doesn’t understand.
Because he understands immediately.
When he speaks again, his voice is lower.
“Ah.”
I close my eyes briefly.
There it is.
One syllable.
Sympathy wrapped in a tiny coffin.
“We said goodbye this morning,” I add.
