Morning After, Same Office

Cal woke to gray light and the sound of a zipper being eased shut with more care than the sound warranted, as if slowness could make it quiet.

Nora stood by the window already dressed, one shoe in her hand, the red pen clipped back inside her jacket where it lived when she wasn’t using it to correct someone. She hadn’t turned on a single light. She was working out, he understood, watching her from the bed, exactly how many steps stood between here and the door, and whether she could cover them without waking him.

It had been well past midnight by the time they’d left the roof, hours past the wine at dinner. Both of them had been clear-headed long before either said anything that couldn’t be taken back. He remembered that more precisely than almost anything else about the night — some part of him had needed…