“Hey,” I said, forcing a casual tone. “You’re calling early. What’s the occasion?”
He chuckled. “I got a break. They’re resetting a scene for the fifth time because the sun isn’t cooperating. But hey, it gives me time to call my favorite person.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere. If you keep this up, I might even let you buy me dinner the next time you’re in town.”
“Deal. So, how’s your story going?”
“I just finished it, actually,” I admitted.
A muffled voice in the background cut me off. “Luke, we need you on set in two.”
“One second,” he shouted back, his voice straining as he returned to me. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
I hesitated. “I thought of the best plot twist, and I?—”
“Luke, wardrobe needs you for adjustments,” another voice shouted.
He groaned. “Seriously? Sorry, Anna, go ahead.”
“It’s fine,” I said, trying to hide my frustration. “You’re busy.”
“No, no, I want to hear this,” he insisted. “Tell me.”
“I left bread crumbs all throughout?—”
“Luke, are you ready to run it again?” a third voice cut in.
I heard him fumbling with something on the other end.
“I’ve got to go,” he said, his voice rushed, the warmth edged out by exhaustion. “I’m so sorry. But I want to hear about it next time, okay? I mean it.”
I smiled faintly, even if something in me wilted a little. “Yeah. Of course.”
There was a pause, like he didn’t want to hang up either but didn’t have a choice.
“Hey,” he added, softer now, “I’m happy we talked. I miss you.”
My heart clenched. “I miss you, too.”
There was a long pause. “So…any chance you’ve changed your mind about moving out here? The weather’s beautiful, and we’d get to see each other more.”
My breath caught. I couldn’t believe that he was bringing this up. I was a bit annoyed because I’d given him my answer numerous times, and it was always the same.
I just couldn’t, and I don’t know why he wouldn’t take no for an answer. I mean, everything inside me wanted to say yes. But fear tucked my words tight.?“Luke, I can’t.”
He paused, and I wondered what was going through his mind. Was he annoyed at me? I could practically feel it through the miles that separated us. But when he finally spoke, his words were calm, “Gotcha. No worries. You take care, okay?”
I whispered, “You too.”
Click. The call ended, and I was enveloped in silence. I stared at my phone, the emptiness settling like cold water in my chest.
The next night was the first when he didn’t call. All I got was a brief text:Love you! Miss you!
“Have you heard from him?” Marie Antoinette’s voice cut through the clatter of the bar the next night as she slid a tray of glasses onto the counter.
“Yes,” I said, wiping down the counter with more force than necessary. “He’s fine. Busy.”
“Uh-huh. And is that why you’re reorganizing the liquor cabinet by color? Because he’sfine?”
