I don’t do a lot of that now. It’s not the same as it used to be.
That made his smile grow, but he’d keep his response neutral.Maybe it’s time for a new hobby. By the way, thank you for forwarding the china.The wooden crate arrived this morning, packed up tight for its journey. The dishes Nana intended him to have when he married. He was grateful Bailey didn’t sell them after all.
I had a feeling you’d want it. Wait. Why are you talking to me?
He checked his reflection and straightened his bow tie.Are you complaining?
Never. Don’t you have that charity thing tonight?
She remembered. He liked that.
Investor dinner. It’s not for an hour, and I wanted to say hi before I left.
Are you dressed to the nines and looking all spiffy?she asked.
It’s my tux. Same one I wear to every dinner. I suppose since they keep inviting me back, it hasn’t offended anyone yet.
I want to see.
He stared at the phone, frowning, as if the expression might carry to her.Of me in my tux?
Yes. I’ve never seen you in a tux.
I don’t do selfies.He was already picking up the phone. She’d talk him into it sooner or later.
Make an exception for me?
He snapped the photo and hitSend.Better?
A sight I wouldn’t mind seeing more often, suit or not. Though you do make it look good.
Of course I do.
As he finished getting ready for dinner, he couldn’t ignore the gnawing in his chest that wished she was going with him tonight, instead of thousands of miles away.
*
BAILEY LAY ON HER BACKin bed, staring at the photo on her phone. How was it she only had the one picture of Jonathan as an adult? Okay, so maybe she was acting like a giddy teenager, crushing over the hot guy in a suit, but that didn’t stop her from looking at the image every few minutes.
She missed him as much now as when he left. It might be she wasn’t giving herself a chance to move on, but it wasn’t as though she wanted this empty pit in her gut. It was almost two in the morning, and she couldn’t sleep. Would he still be rubbing shoulders there? Did investor dinners go past eleven? Probably.
Her phone buzzed in her hand, startling her, and she almost dropped the device. That it was a new note from Jonathan chased away her exhaustion.I miss her.His words filled Bailey with sadness.
She was tempted to make light of the subject, simply to avoid the hurt the note summoned. She couldn’t bring herself to type,Are you drunk?Instead she said,Me too.
Some days I think it’s starting to hurt less, and then I remember a random thing that happened. A story she told me or a birthday gift, and the grief comes back.
It’ll take time. And even then, I don’t think the pain ever goes away completely. Not exactly comforting words, but it was the truth.
I know.
I’m always here, though. It was the same reassurance she always offered. This time it felt like there was more to her words than she intended.
His reply read,<3. Good night, Ale.
What the freak was that supposed to mean? She stared at the conversation, scrolling up to the picture of him and reading though it again and again, until the words didn’t make sense anymore. She itched to call him. Suddenly her reasons for not wanting to hear his voice felt silly. He was probably sleeping instead of obsessively looking for meaning that wasn’t there in a muddle of digital words.
She dropped the phone on the mattress with a sigh. What was she doing?