Maya and Tari gathered the trash, read the room, Maya kissed my cheek, stage–whispered “text me if you need extraction,” and dragged Tari out by the elbow before she could adopt the Swan of Regret, the apartment fell into that bright quiet new spaces have, Roman and I stood in it like two people in a museum, not touching the art
“I can go,” he said, not fishing,
“You can help me pick hooks at the hardware store,” I said, “if you’re not afraid of fluorescent lighting,”
“Lead the way,” he said, like that was the point
We walked three blocks, sun doing nice things to the day, no car, no entourage, just a hand we did not hold, a conversation we did not force, he compared wall anchors like a man who has opinions, I chose the little brushed brass hooks because they looked like they forgive,
