Chapter 2: Eleven Days text
Christmas morning in the apartment smelled of coffee and the small tree I had decorated with Noah’s handmade ornaments from previous years.
At eleven, my phone rang with the scheduled video call. Noah’s face filled the screen, missing a tooth, holding up a robot that made electronic noises. Behind him, Bianca’s parents moved through a tasteful living room with wine glasses. Ethan appeared briefly, smiled too hard, and asked whether I had opened the package they shipped. I had. It was a scarf and a candle. Thoughtful. Easy to store.
“We’re about to eat,” Bianca said from off-camera. “The timing worked out perfectly with everyone’s flights.”
“I’m glad,” I said.
May you like
Noah asked when he would see me. Ethan answered for me: soon, after the holidays, when things were less busy. I did not correct him. I told Noah I loved him and that I had a surprise for another day. Bianca’s sister asked, politely, what I was doing for dinner. I said I was spending it with family. The word hung between us without further detail.
After the call I locked the apartment, rolled a single suitcase to the car, and drove toward the airport for the flight I had booked the same afternoon Ethan told me not to come. The gold keys were in my purse. The red velvet box remained in the drawer at home, unnecessary now.
