James(8:42 a.m.) a pizza?!?!??!?!
James(8:42 a.m.) is hospitality DEAD
Amina(8:42 a.m.) didn’t realize i was dating an ues housewife
Smiling, Lili tucks her phone away into her tote as she shoulders open the door to her local coffee shop. The streets of her neighborhood are comforting. With fresh coffee beans in her bag, one headphone in her ear playing music low, oat latte in hand, she makes her way up Wythe, relaxed in the easy morning. She passes the colorful window of new book releases at McNally Jackson, moms with Bugaboos, iced coffees, and Dansko clogs. A pack of runners rush by her, heading towards the waterfront.
I asked Garnier—Simon—for your roommate’s phone number,Aleksandr had said on Friday morning when he’d gotten back from his run.To let her know you were alright. I didn’t intend to be inappropriate, but I thought it best she knew where you were, that you were safe.
Oh,Lili replied, taken aback.Oh, no, that’s—that was thoughtful of you.
The rest of the weekend had been quiet, together.
When she’d gotten up to make more coffee, leaving a few pages ofCancer Wardto finish later, ready to write, with Aleksandr still on a run, she’d checked her phone. Leaning against the counter, she’d scanned the group chat, the increasingly concerned messages from her friends that dropped off in the evening, likely when Aleksandr had contacted Jackie.
Quick, Lili had checked in, sent James an apology for missing hisbirthday dinner. She felt a sharp pang of selfishness for disappearing. She explained the contours of what happened—(7:34 a.m.) some old family stuff came up, i’m so sorry, that was really fucking shitty of me—before settling down to work, snapping open her laptop on the long dining table.
Most of the day, she’d worked on her thesis: coffee, crunch of a honey-gold apple, as she’d struck out more comments and tackled the final edits, slow and steady. It was a distraction, but a productive one, holding onto the reassurance of routine as those waves of guilt arose, again.
Guilt—and grief, too. As they washed over her, she tried to shakily breathe through it. She kept working, guided by the quiet tap of her keyboard under her fingers.
When Aleksandr came back from his run, she’d been deep in her draft, considering an edit from Kerr about the mechanism of confession within secular societies. Hearing the elevator, she murmured a greeting, absorbed. As Aleksandr walked into the loft, looking down at his phone, she glanced up briefly—and oh, she shouldn’t like him in running clothes that much, sweat soaked, breath exhilarated.
Hey,he’d said, noticing her at the dining table.You can use my office, if you’d like, he offered, inclining his head down the hall as he’d tapped through emails on his phone.
I’m alright,she’d said. She tried to focus on her screen as he headed towards his bedroom, the en suite. Through open doors, she heard the distant sound of the shower turning on.
He’d given her space, that day. After he’d emerged, running a towel through his wet hair, he made fresh coffee, brought her another mug; she noticed how he’d poured oat milk into it. As he’d gone into his office to work, the sound of phone calls came through the half-ajar door. Like the reassurance that he was there, if she needed him.
Even as she’d felt the pull towards him, she’d let herself take space to herself, working through her draft. Through it all, she felt the sense of settling. Through the recurring rise and fall of grief—a swell that made tears sting, as she’d gnawed on her cuticles, flicking open her phone, looking at the photo again—she could feel the difference, observe changes. As if the body that welcomed her back after last night—the mind, its thoughts—wasn’t so angry, so spiteful.
Exhaustion, too, though.
As the sun had set, Lili stifled a yawn, looking up from her screen. Aleksandr was in the kitchen, making dinner. Closing her computer, Lili padded over to him. Coming up behind him, she ran a hand up his back. The soft cotton of his black shirt was warm under her fingers.
What can I help with?she’d asked, peering around him at the stove.
Nothing, he’d said.There are vegetables in the oven, and the rice will be done when they are. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.
No, that’s perfect,she’d said, resting her cheek against his back.
After dinner, she swirled her wineglass, half-empty.Are you done with work for the night?
He’d nodded, taking a drink of wine. A dry white, and he hadn’t poured himself another glass after she’d declined a second.
Want to watch a movie or something?she’d asked.
Whatever you’d like.
On the couch, she’d gotten her computer out.No TV, huh?she commented, pulling up Netflix.
I don’t have much free time,he replied. Lili nestled into his arm around her, swinging her legs over his lap. Her fingers skated over the trackpad, scrolling through films and shows. A bit unsure, residual sadness welled up now that it was dark out, like heartache waiting. Her phone, resting on the couch beside her; that photograph, there.
What would you like to watch?he’d asked.
She’d shrugged, passing the computer to him.Something light, I don’t know. Sweet, I guess.
Aleksandr nodded, typing in a title.
