You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You got quiet.”
“I’m fine.”
I meant it.
That night Daniel texted after I returned home:
Saw Michael is in town. Lily mentioned it. Hope the family lunch was good.
I set the phone down. Ten minutes later came another:
I think about that hotel sometimes.
Once, his uncertainty could have pulled me back into his emotional orbit. I started three responses. The first was:
I don’t.
I erased it as needlessly harsh. Then:
I hope you’re doing well.
Too reassuring. I deleted that too and answered
