I groan in annoyance and dig my phone out of my pocket, not bothering to look at the screen first.
“Hello?”
“Hi.”
My body stills; it’s Aurora.
She should be coming over this evening after work, going by our usual schedule. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to makemyself scarce, even though the debate has been on my mind all day.
She’s calling now, though, and I can’t hang up on her. It would be childish anyway.
“Hi,” I say, my eyes falling back to my ruined sandwich.
She can obviously hear in my voice that something’s wrong, because she pauses and then says, “Uh, is this a bad time?” The words are hesitant in a way I’m not used to from her.
“No,” I say glumly, still looking at my lunch on the floor. “I just dropped my sandwich.”
“Mmm. My condolences.”
“Fillings everywhere.”
“Everywhere?”
“Mayonnaise splattered all over the floor.”
“Uh-huh…”
“Can barely walk through the sea of lettuce and ham and cheese and tomato?—”
“All right,” she cuts me off, and a smile tugs at my lips despite the complicated feelings still brewing inside me. “I think there’s some exaggeration going on.”
I don’t respond to this, letting silence fall between us.
From the other end, Aurora clears her throat. “Uh, how is the house?”
“The house is fine,” I say, leaning back against the counter.
“Good,” she says. “And—” She breaks off, sounding almost awkward. “The job hunt? How is that?”
My shoulders twitch into a shrug. “Uneventful. Trying to make myself sound good on a résumé. The usual.”
“You’ll find something.” Her reassurance is hearty, forced.
But she’s right; I will find something. “Yeah, it’ll happen.”
And…more silence.
“So…did you call just to ask about the house and my job?” I say.
I know she didn’t.
“Oh,” she says. “Uh, no, actually.”
I hum, waiting.
“I just needed—” She takes a deep breath and exhales, a staticky rush of air down the line. “I needed to apologize.”
I blink in surprise.
