SHAPES UNSPOKEN

-1-

HAPPY READING 🥰

Sean Britto

I stare at her name for a long time before I press call.

Cindy.

My wife.

My whole damn world.

The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Each ring tightens something inside my chest.

Then-

"Hello? Sean, is everything alright with Steph?"

Her voice.

God.

It's soft but guarded. Careful. Like she's already bracing herself.

For a second I can't speak. I just breathe her in through the receiver.

"It's so good to hear your voice," I say quietly. "I miss you, baby."

"Sean, are you hearing me?"

"I'm hearing you just fine." I swallow. "Steph is alright. He's good. I- I got promoted today, Cindy."

There's a pause on the other end.

"Do you know what time it is, Sean?" Her tone shifts - colder now. "Is that why you called? I thought we talked about this."

The warmth I felt seconds ago drains straight out of me.

"Baby, you're the first person I thought to call." My voice tightens. "Why are you talking to me like that? Cindy... what exactly is it? Just tell me. Is there someone else?"

"Sean, don't you dare go there."

"Then what the hell is it?" I snap, frustration bleeding through. "Make me understand this. I don't get it."

"This is exactly what it is," she says sharply. "I told you not to call me unless it's about Steph. And here you are calling me at this hour. You are smothering me. I need space."

Space.

That word again.

"Space to do what, Cindy?" I ask, my jaw clenched so tight it aches.

"Space to be me. To be whole again. Sean, I'm trying to figure things out too."

"Figure what out?" My voice rises. "What is there to figure out? We're married."

Silence hums between us.

Then she exhales.

"Congratulations on your promotion. You deserve it."

That's it.

That's all she has for me.

"That's all you're going to say?"

"What else is there to say? Look at what you've accomplished, Sean. Please give me a chance to accomplish something too."

"I've never stopped you," I fire back. "Not once."

"No," she says quietly. "But you think I don't need one."

I laugh bitterly. "I told you I can take care of my family. That's what I'm supposed to do."

"Sean, I'm tired of having this same argument."

"Then what do you want from me?" I demand. "Tell me what to fix."

"Time."

"For what?" I press.

Her breathing shifts on the other end. Slower. Uncertain.

"Time to find myself. To understand what I want. To know where my heart is."

The words land like bullets.