Chapter 12. Missing Him

The days without him were quiet.

Diana had expected to feel relieved. There were no white roses and no black car, no dark eyes across a room making her forget her own name. For three months before the wedding, her life had been work, the bus, a book on the couch, and an early night. Now it was that again, and she hated how much smaller it felt.

Once, while he was still at the docks, she tried to send his name. Something brushed behind her left ear, too faint to become a word. His ordinary phone call came later. He had heard nothing he could be sure was hers.

Barcelona was worse. She stood at her kitchen window one evening and tried again, carefully, as they had on the couch. Nothing answered. She sent a text. It arrived; he answered between meetings.

Her body had been ordinary since the Sunday after the wedding. She missed his laugh when Mrs. Lu insulted him, the way he listened when she started a story halfway through, and the ridiculous concentration with w