I mean it. You seem like you’d be a good mother.
You don’t even know me.
You stepped in for a stranger, knowing you couldn’t win. I know enough.
The questions from him continueafter that. Some are easy. Others aren’t. I answer a few without thinking. Dodge the rest before he can push for more.
Are you always this inquisitive?
Only when I’m taking something seriously.
Ready for the next one?
Do you have a list or something?
There’s a pause. A real one this time. Longer than before.
No.
There’s definitely a fucking list.
You hesitated.
You’re very observant.
You’re very bad at lying.
I don’t usually need to.
That, I believe.
My turn to ask a question?
Sure.
What did you wantto be when you grew up?
There’s no pause this time.
Someone who kept people safe.
I start to type out a response, but another text comes in almost immediately.
I’ll save the rest of my questions for another time.
Why?
It’s late. I’m sure you’ve got things to wrap up at work.
I glance at the clock. 9:15 p.m. I should’ve closed up shop a while ago.
Right.
Goodnight, Bambi. We’ll continue this tomorrow.
Not talk.Continue.Like this is something that will be ongoing.Fucking hell.
I lock the screen and tuck my phone back into my pocket, feeling like I gave him more than I meant to and kind of hating myself for it.
