Ignoring the wet spot on my shirt, I grab for my phone.
Alexander: Gwen, is everything okay?
Of course, he automatically thinks something is wrong. After all, why else would I be messaging him? A small part of me, a part that I ignore, hurts that he apparently wasn’t glad to hear from me.
Feeling like an idiot for taking advantage of his offer to contact him if I needed anything, I shoot off a quick reply.
Me: No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to say hi.
I hit Send, then regret it when I realize the message makes me sound like a weirdo. Seriously, who messages someone just to say hi? Even though he’s not here to witness it, I still feel my face burn.
My phone vibrates again, and I glance down.
Alexander: How are you doing?
Okay, so maybe he’s not as appalled to hear from me as I thought. If he was, he wouldn’t encourage conversation, right? Or is it simply out of courtesy? I hate being so unsure.
Me: I’m doing good.
Alexander: And the kids?
I smile, touched that he asked after them.
Me: They are both good too.
I set my phone down, then pick it back up.
Me: How have you been?
A minute later, my phone vibrates.
Alexander: Been busy with catching up on things around the house.
I look at the screen, wondering what I should say next. I don’t want our silent communication to be over yet. Oddly, it’s soothing knowing he’s on the other side of the signal thinking about me. It makes me feel not quite so alone in my feelings for him. Which is stupid; just because he’s messaging me doesn’t mean he’s thinking about me like I’m thinking about him.
Me: Kelsey loves the book you made her. It’s the only one she works on now. And Daniel carries the wooden horse everywhere with him.
No matter what Daniel is doing, you can see a lump in his pocket from the horse. At night, when he’s sleeping, he puts it on his nightstand, only to put it in his pocket the next day.
Alexander: I’m glad they’re happy with them. I’ll have to make Kelsey another crossword book for when she finishes this one and let Daniel see my grandfather’s wood carving collection.
My heart warms. His words imply we’ll see him again. I try not to let his message get to me, but I can’t help the butterflies swarming around in my stomach. I wish we were seeing him tomorrow.
Me: They’d both love that.
It turns quiet after that, and I can’t think of anything else to say without sounding like a complete fool.
Knowing my time is up for the night, I send one more quick message.
Me: I’ll let you go. Have a good night, Alexander. Take care.
A minute later, he messages back.
Alexander: You too, Gwen. Sleep well.
I can’t help the smile that forms on my face. It’s definitely not the same as talking to him on the phone, but I’ll take any form of communication I can get.
That night I do sleep well. I sleep with images of a broken man with beautiful scar