Her breath hitched.
"I—you were just here a few hours ago," she whispered, her cheeks burning.
"I still miss you."
The simplicity of it hit her harder than anything else tonight.
She swallowed. "Come back soon?"
"I will," he said with no hesitation and no doubt. "And when I do, no more rushing out, no more calls cutting short. I owe you a proper evening."
Her toes curled under the blanket.
"Goodnight, Evelyn," he said, voice low and warm.
"Goodnight, Alexander."
Neither of them hung up for several seconds until one of them finally whispered, "You first."
"No, you—"
Both laughed quietly, soft and breathy, the kind of laugh that only happens when two people are falling into something they can't name yet.
Finally, the call ended, leaving both of them smiling into the dark.
….
[Heinberg—Project Site]
The floodlights cut harsh white cones through the darkness, throwing long, jagged shadows across the half-constructed structure.
