Prompt: Describe the most beautiful sound you have ever heard.
Under the veil of night, shadows clinging to my silhouette as I leaned over my balcony, I ruminated on today’s occurrences with a heavy heart. His crestfallen smile flashed across my vision. He didn’t understand why I hadn’t been by his side; he tried to, however, even while I gave no justification. That made it all the worse.
How could I explain that I was a coward? The thought of plastering on a smile while my jealousy shined clearly in my eyes physically ailed me on my commute to meet him. Around the bend of the movie theatre, I saw him joking around with his siblings while his parents held the snacks while watching them with an endearingly. To see as he loved and was loved. To return to a world where no love existed, having experienced it and knowing what I lacked—what I longed for.
I couldn’t. Ethan had given me more than I ever expected over the last few weeks. The last thing I needed was to be greedy. What I had now was enough. It had to be.
Still, I felt a pang of guilt that hit at having disappointed everyone. His parents had met me before at a networking event in their home— prior to us dating. They were eager to meet in a “more casual setting”, though, or so Ethan said when he invited me to the movies. It would be another two weeks before we could try again since his parents had business in London for two weeks.
When I meet with Ethan to apologize, he accepted the lack of explanation. Not once did he push. However, he informed me that his schedule consisted of babysitting when not in class or work, which didn’t allow us to hang out till next weekend. His eyes spoke what his lips did not.  He’d miss him. Perhaps that was for the best. I needed to focus on myself.
An unceasing ring forced me out of my thoughts.
I retreated to my room, attempting to remember where I threw my back when I arrived. My chair? No, that’s where I left my backpack. Then my bag must be hanging from the closet door…. I fumbled through the front pockets to grab my phone but stopped in my tracks at seeing the Caller ID. My eyebrows furrowed, not expecting a call this late, especially after how I’d acted earlier. I tensed as I swiped right.
“Hey Chloe. Hope I’m not calling you too late.” My shoulders relaxed at the soft inflection with which he spoke my name as music.   Â
“Ethan,” I whispered. “No, it’s fine.”
“Good. I just wanted to check up on you. How are you feeling?” He didn’t attempt to conceal the worry from his voice, knowing how much I valued direct communication when possible. I appreciated Ethan all the more for respecting times when I couldn’t do the same, especially right now, yet continuing to do his best to make me feel comfortable.
The thought cajoled a smile out of me. “Better now that you called.” I sighed, thinking back of how we’d departed earlier. “I’m sorry for bailing earlier without an explanation or a call or anything.”
“It’s all right Chloe,” Ethan assured me. “There are plenty of other opportunities for us all to go out, hopefully at a better time for you.”
“If your siblings are up for it, how about an outing this weekend? A picnic or something.” I bit my lip, anxious that he’d tire of accommodating for my faults and realize that I wasn’t worth the effort.
“They’ve already gone to bed so I’ll ask them tomorrow.” The sweet cadence in his voice softened my remaining discomfort in my heart.
“Sounds like a plan,” I smiled tentatively.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Though I didn’t initially want to talk, it saddened me that our call was cut short. “Sweet dreams, Chloe.”
“Thanks for checking up on me, Ethan. I really appreciate. Good night!”
I placed my phone on the night desk besides me before preparing myself to rest. Jeans and a knit top swapped with a pair of flannel pajamas. Shoes placed in the closet. Hair tied back in a braid. Lights off.
After the day I had, nothing but gratitude swelled in my chest. I didn’t mess up everything after all. The next time will be better.
That night, I drifted into deep, soothing sleep with promises of what could be. Of the dreams I rarely let myself believe.
