“Have fun tomorrow. Send pictures.”
“I will. Love you both.”
“Love you too.”
The call ended, and Monique stood there holding her phone, not as tired as she said.
You look alive.
Was that what this feeling was? This lightness she’d carried since this morning’s coffee in the café? Since walking slowly through celebrating streets while the world rushed past?
Monique opened the balcony doors and stepped into warm night air. The city below hummed with music and laughter, New Year’s preparations in full swing. Somewhere, someone was testing fireworks. Premature celebration crackled across the sky.
Movement caught her eye. The balcony next to hers, Maurice’s balcony, was occupied.
He stood facing away from her, toward the city, his posture rigid. His hands were clasped in front of him, his head bowed slightly. His lips moved, yet no sound carried.
Monique watched, curious.
He looked… wrong. Stiff. Like he had in the café this morning before they’d started talking.
Was he praying? The thought came with certainty. Of course, he was praying. He was officiating Tommie’s wedding. He probably prayed all the time.
But watching him now, Monique couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. His shoulders were tense. His jaw tight. He looked like he was completing a task, not communing with anything divine.
He checked his watch.
Monique looked away, feeling like she’d intruded on something private.
When she looked back, Maurice had lowered his hands. He stood there for a moment, just breathing, then turned and flinched. He saw her.
They stared at each other across the small gap between their balconies.
“Hey,” Monique said quietly.
“Hey.” His voice was rough. Tired.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t.”
They stood in silence for a moment. Music drifted up from somewhere, a slow folksy tune, lyrical, romantic, and melancholy.
“You good?” Monique asked.
Maurice looked like he was going to say yes automatically. Then stopped. “I don’t know.”
The honesty surprised her. “You wanna talk about it?”
He studied her for a long moment. “You really wanna know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
Maurice exhaled, looked out at the city, and then back at her. “You wanna come over?”
“To your balcony?”
“Yeah. Unless you’re tired.”