Chapter 9

There’s noise around him as though he’s sat somewhere busy with lots of other people, and there’s soft music playing, but it doesn’t sound like a club or party. More like a restaurant or somewhere similar.

“You left your clothes on the bed, and your sports car is gone; I was worried you might be having a hard time today.” My mask slips, and the softer me shows my face without meaning to. A slightly gentler tone and the way I say it is alien to how I talk now. There’s a noise like a breathy ‘hah’ of disbelief at my nerve for calling him this way and a small dry chuckle.

“Four years too late, baby. Sohla, hang up before I say something I might regret. I’m not in the mood tonight. I’m out; I’m staying out. I’ll see you at work tomorrow. I’m fine, just like always.”

He has no warmth in his tone, and I’m guessing whoever he is with knows well what kind of relationship we have if he’s talking normally and not trying to put on an act or be quiet about it. It has to be Bry