He laughs without even turning around, the sound hollow as the bedroom door slams shut behind him.
Silence swallows the apartment.
The ring light hums faintly, casting a false glow over everything, and the camera’s red standby light blinks like a cruel reminder of the lie we just filmed.
I sink back onto the couch, pressing the heels of my palms to my eyes, trying to breathe past the tightness in my chest.
Unbidden, Reed’s face flashes in my mind. He looked at me across the bar, never once looking away. How his voice dropped when he said I wasn’t intruding, as if it weren’t up for debate. It was just a moment, almost a breath.
But it felt like something real. Something I have been craving for years.
My phone is warm in my hand before I even realize I’ve picked it up. My fingers hover, hesitating, until I finally type.
Layla
Heyyyyy
Would you maybe want to keep me company while I edit sometime? I don’t mind flying out there; I could use the distraction.
I stare at my message as my thumb trembles above the screen. I shouldn’t send it. It’s stupid and fucking reckless.
The whoosh of the sent message makes my heart skip a beat.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.
Ping.
Reed
Yeah, say when. I’ll be here to pick you up.
No questionsor hesitation.
For the first time today, my smile comes unforced, curling slowly across my lips. The sensation of butterflies fluttering through me again makes me feel giddy with nerves.
I quickly switch apps as my thumb moves on instinct before I can talk myself out of it, feeling the weight of guilt press down on me.
No, Layla, it’s nothing.
Expedia loads slowly, and my heart beats faster with every second the screen takes to load. Finally, rows of flights appear, and I tap the one leaving in two days, round-trip from LAX to Nashville.
My thumb hovers over the screen as I switch between tabs, checking the date, opening my calendar, and doing the mental math of how quickly I could disappear back to a place that makes me feel normal, happy.
A small, hopeful smile slips onto my face before I can stop it.
“What are you smiling for?”
Oh my God, I didn’t even hear him walk out of our bedroom.
His words come from behind me, quiet but strong enough to make me jump.
Turning quickly, I drop my phone on the floor.
He’s leaning over the couch with his arms crossed, watching me with a glare, like he was trying to see what I’m doing on my phone.
“I— I’m not,” I say too quickly, turning fully towards him, crossing my hands and praying to whatever God he doesn’t pick my phone up off the floor.
He walks around the couch slowly, studying my face. When he stops in front of my phone, he picks it up and gently sets it down on the glass coffee table in front of me.
