I sat on the edge of the bed, still in my gown, and stared at the city lights below. Taxis slid through intersections like restless thoughts. Sirens wailed distantly. Somewhere, someone laughed.
Time stretched.
I checked my phone.
No message.
Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour.
I removed my earrings. Slipped off my heels. Walked to the window again.
Another hour.
The roses on the nightstand seemed to release their fragrance more heavily as the room grew quieter. The silence thickened, pressing against my ribs.
By the third hour, fatigue blurred my thinking. I lay down without changing, telling myself I would confront him calmly when he returned.
Sleep came shallow and fractured.
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