We should probably hear from them too—

We should probably hear from them too—

and the pause happens after my name.

Not before. After.

Everyone suddenly needs

to study the table's wood grain,

their coffee, the weight of their own breathing.

Sarah smiles. Not a smile smile.

The kind where your face does something

while you're thinking about something else.

Something better.

I can see it happen in her eyes first.

The decision to smile.

My hands are cold now.

I don't know when that started.

I'm taking notes. That's what I do.

I write down what people say

and pretend the space between words

is just silence.

But the space after my name

has weight.

It has a shape.

It has a name that I won't use here.