“Are you sure you’re at work?”
Silence.
It lasted only a second, but it was enough.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean, are you actually at the office?”
He laughed nervously.
“Of course. Where else would I be?”
I could hear traffic in the background.
Then a car horn.
Then a sound like a door opening and closing.
“What’s that noise?” I asked.
“Construction outside. They’re doing some work on the street.”
I almost admired how quickly he came up with an explanation.
Almost.
“Eliam?”
“Yeah?”
“If there’s something you need to tell me, I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”
His voice softened.
“Of course, sweetheart. Why are you asking?”
“No reason. I just love you.”
“I love you, too.”
We ended the call.
I sat there for another minute, holding my phone.
Eleven years.
Eleven years of shared breakfasts, late-night conversations, birthday celebrations, arguments about money, and plans for the future.
