5
Claire.
I had to tell him. I’d rehearsed it in my head too many times to think it would come out clean. But when Daniel finally called after three days of silence, I answered with shaking hands.
He was in a hotel room in some city I didn’t care to remember. His voice was distracted, his words quick and clipped like he was already packing for another flight.
“I miss you,” he said, after a pause that lasted too long.
I didn’t say it back.
Instead, I said, “I need to tell you something.”
There was silence, then a sigh. “Claire. Can it wait?”
“No.”
“Babe, I’ve had a week of back-to-back meetings. I’m fried. Can’t this be a later thing?”
“It’s not a later thing,” I snapped. “I’m not okay.”
There was another pause. “Are you hurt?”
“No. Not like that.”
“Well, then just... hold on,
