“As it happens, I'm working overtime tonight. Enjoy your trip.”
If he'd paid even the slightest attention, he would have heard me struggling to breathe, the low groan I couldn't hold back. My whole body was in agony.
But he didn't hear. He hung up.
I lay there for ten minutes before I could gather the strength to call him back.
The phone rang and rang. It nearly went to voicemail before he finally picked up.
His voice came through still carrying the tail end of a laugh, bright and buoyant, and it seeped into my ears and settled like lead in every bone.
“Babe, what's up?”
I couldn't stop the ragged coughing that tore out of me. For a long moment I couldn't form a single word.
Leopold waited a beat, then said：“If your throat's bothering you, drink some warm honey water.”
“Babe, I gotta go. Bye.”
The line went dead. He knew I needed reassurance. He knew that about me.
He'd seen me gasping like this before. How could he hang up that fast?
What was I still hoping for?
The phone cooled in my palm. I stared at the screen for ten minutes, and when it finally went dark, my reflection stared back. That was when I realized I'd been crying.
I pushed the blanket aside and swung my legs off the bed. My bare feet hit the cold floor, and I didn't feel it.
One step at a time, I climbed from the fifth floor to the eighth, and stepped out onto the rooftop.
The Four Seasons stood directly across the street.
The hotel blazed with light. One balcony in particular caught my eye, strobing with camera flashes.
Several people crowded the balcony. A tall man stood with his back to me, his arms wrapped around a woman with a model's figure.
The crowd around them chanted：“Kiss her! Kiss her!”
Across the rushing traffic below, their voices drifted to me, faint but unmistakable.
A moment later, speakers crackled to life：“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.”
Leopold set the woman down and placed a glittering birthday crown on her head himself.
They leaned into each other on that decorated balcony, celebrating, laughing, radiant.
I stood barefoot on the hospital roof, swallowed in darkness, listening to the night they'd never forget.
When the two of them pressed together in a kiss that lingered, I lifted my phone and snapped a photo.
I sent it to Leopold. The auto-reply pinged back instantly【Hey babe, stay safe out there.】
Absurd. Those cheerful little words warped in front of my eyes, twisting into something grotesque.
I took one long breath and posted the photo on Instagram.
【Carolyn, who's that kissing??】
【The guy's back looks like Leopold? But he's so crazy about you, no way it's him.】
Within minutes, someone messaged me privately.
“Is that really your husband? He went through all that danger for you back then. Did you cheat on him? Is this his way of getting even?”
Their speculation, their wild theories, barely registered.
In that moment I was numb in a way I had never been before. The anxiety, the desperate need for safety, all of it dissolved and sank into my limbs like ice water until I couldn't feel anything at all.
I gripped my phone and stared in silence at the balcony across the street.
Ten minutes passed. Leopold's name lit up my screen.
I didn't answer.
Ten calls in a row.
Another ten minutes crawled by before a message finally came through.
He must have seen the photo I took. And the replies underneath.
A voice message. His words shook.
“Babe, where are you?”
“Why would you send me a photo like that?”
“That's not me in the picture.”
Afraid of being caught, he did exactly what I expected. Deny everything. As long as he insisted it wasn't him, he could walk away clean.
How could it not be him?
I replied, numb：“Okay. Got it.”
“Then come home soon. I'll have something ready for you to eat.” This time, he didn't hang up so fast.
