Me neither
That simple exchange shouldn’t have made me feel better, but it did. Knowing he was awake too, missing me too, struggling with the same empty bed.
Étienne
First night’s the hardest
Marco
Is it? Or does it get worse?
Étienne
Don’t know. Never done this before.
Marco
Done what?
Étienne
Missed someone like this.
I watched the three dots appear and disappear several times before his response came.
Marco
Yeah. Same.
We texted for another hour. Nothing important, really. Just existing together across the distance. Eventually he had to go—personal trainer in the morning. I promised to text after practice.
When I finally fell asleep, it was with my phone still in my hand.
Wednesday was a blur of practice and team meetings and trying to stay focused despite my mind being seventeen hundred miles away.
Kinnunen noticed. Of course he noticed.
“You good?” he asked during a water break.
“Yeah. Just tired. Didn’t sleep well.”
“Hotel beds,” he commiserated. “Never as comfortable as home.”
“Exactly.”
I checked my phone after practice, in the few minutes on the bus, during lunch. Marco’s texts came steadily throughout the day—updates on his workout, a photo of the terrible omelet he’d made for lunch, team gossip from Alyssa Kinnunen, who’d taken him to the grocery store.
Normal things. Mundane things.
Things that felt precious because they were from him.
“Who are you always texting?” one of the younger players asked at the table.
“My roommate,” I said without thinking. “Making sure he’s not burning down the house.”
A few guys laughed. Kinnunen glanced at me, his expression unreadable.
I wanted to tell him.
