Page 64 of Words We Didn't Say

Do you have time to talk?

I chewed on mylower lip. This message wasn’t like the other goodnight wishes from Zach.

Last night, he’d sent, “May your dreams be filled with the softest feathers and the sweetest honey.” He explained in a follow-up message it was from one of his favourite books when he was a kid,The Secret Garden. I’d seen the movie yonks ago but didn’t remember that line.

I stared at my phone. This new message wasn’t anything like the one before.

Weneededto talk. We were hopeless at communicating. Zach had shut me out, and I certainly couldn’t pretend I was perfect—I’d shut him out, too. There was so much he didn’t know about my past. There was also still a part of me that hoped Zach could do something big enough—some grand gesture—to make the past few months hurt less. That part of me knew we needed to learn how to talk to each other. A message like ‘time to talk’ was rarely a simple conversation, but when had we ever done things the easy way?

I hit the button to video chat.

One beat.

Two.

Panic shot through me. Zach wasn’t answering. Was he giving up?

I breathed again when Zach’s face filled the screen. He waved, then propped his chin in his hand, dark circles hanging from his eyes. I didn’t have to ask where he was. One disastrous visit had been enough to memorise every detail of his office, including the row of fancy certificates on the wall behind him.

I glanced at the time. Past midnight. And Zach was still at work?

I scuttled my mind back to all the hours I’d put into opening my first salon. Double shifts to save up the down payment. Painting the walls on the weekends. Scavenging antique mirrors and dinged wooden furniture from garage sales. Bringing Andie plenty of snacks and beers because she had the talent to refurbish all my bargains. Having support was the only reason I’d made it. I understood the grind to achieve your dreams, but was Zach’s promotion worth the exhaustion in his eyes?

“Hey there,” I said gently.

“Hey.” Even his smile was tired. “I wasn’t expecting a video call.”

“It’s so much nicer to chat face to face.”

“Says the extrovert.”

“Too much?”

He shook his head. “I want to see you. Your hair.” His finger swirled around the screen. “It’s a blowout, right?”

“Yeah! You know some styling?”

“Yvette was in her element when I helped at your salon.”

I bounced one of the curled waves. “She styled this.”

“I was instructed an acceptable response is an appreciative but not fake ‘Ooh,’ but…can I tell you…you look beautiful?”

My cheeks heated. “Also an acceptable response.”

Zach smiled.

“So…” I twisted a wave of hair into a tight ringlet around my finger. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh. I, um…” A deep breath rose in his chest. “I saw the photos. Of, you know…you and…” He waved a hand as if that filled in the rest of the details.

He was talking about Sam.

“You stalking me on the internet?” My tone was teasing, but the question was genuine. I wanted him to be interested in what I was doing. I twisted the ringlet tighter around my finger.

“No, not exactly.” He winced. “I did sorta create an account to follow your salon.”

A fact I’d already known. I concealed the smile threatening to burst across my face. The glasses avatar of MisterPaigeTurner had stood out when it popped up in my notifications. His confession was sweet, though.

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