For some reason, he would remember that exact number.
Ten forty-one.
The minute his relationship split into two versions.
Everything before the message.
And everything after it.
Footsteps approached.
Darius put the invitation sample down.
Simone entered carrying one mug.
“You didn’t bring mine?”
“I told you to get your own.”
She stopped.
Darius was looking at her.
“What?”
He forced his face to relax.
“Nothing.”
“You look weird.”
“So do you.”
“That’s rude.”
She sat beside him.
Then she saw her phone.
Something changed in her expression.
Very small.
Darius might not have noticed it yesterday.
Now he noticed everything.
Simone reached for the phone immediately.
She unlocked it.
Her thumb moved quickly.
Darius watched.
She glanced at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You keep saying that.”
Darius shrugged.
“Because nothing’s wrong.”
Simone studied him.
Then smiled.
“Okay.”
She placed the phone screen down on the nightstand.
That was unusual too.
Simone almost always left it facing upward.
Darius suddenly remembered dozens of tiny moments from the previous six months.
Her carrying the phone into the shower.
Her changing the password she had used for years.
Her turning notifications off at dinner.
Her stepping outside to answer calls.
The new habit of placing her phone face down.
The evenings she came home later than expected.
The way she sometimes smiled at messages and then immediately locked the screen.
Every one of those moments had possessed an innocent explanation when considered alone.
Now Darius could not stop them from assembling themselves into something else.
Simone touched his shoulder.
“Are you listening?”
Darius looked at her.
“What?”
“I said Jasmine wants to go over centerpieces later.”
“Oh.”
“Were you not listening to anything I just said?”
“Sorry.”
Simone frowned.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Darius looked at the phone on the nightstand.
Then at the woman he intended to marry in four months.
He could have confronted her immediately.
Part of him wanted to.
He could already hear himself.
Who is Pizza Hut?
Why is Pizza Hut calling you sexy?
Why does Pizza Hut want to know whether your man is gone?
Instead, something quieter inside him asked another question.
If he confronted her now, would he get the truth?
Or merely the fastest explanation she could invent?
Darius had spent twelve years managing construction projects.
He had learned something useful about problems.
When something looked wrong, do not begin by destroying the site.
First figure out what actually happened.
He looked at Simone.
“I’m fine.”
She searched his face.
“Promise?”
Darius hated the word.
Still, he answered.
“Yeah.”
Simone smiled.
Then kissed his cheek.
“Good.”
She had no idea that Darius was now wondering whether he knew her at all.
Their relationship had begun five years earlier at a birthday dinner Darius almost skipped.
His younger sister, Nia, had turned twenty-eight.
She reserved half a restaurant for friends and family and threatened Darius with public humiliation if he failed to attend.
“I’m exhausted,” he told her.
“You are always exhausted.”
“I have work tomorrow.”
“It’s Saturday tomorrow.”
“I work Saturdays.”
“You need a life.”
“I have one.”
“No, you have steel-toed boots and a mortgage.”
Darius eventually surrendered.
Simone arrived with one of Nia’s college friends.
Darius noticed her before she noticed him.
She wore a dark blue dress and silver earrings.
Not flashy.