Answering Machine

The streets of Tempe were dark and deserted. The clock on the car’s dashboard read 11:42 PM. The air outside was cooler than what I imagined it had been earlier in the day. I kept a harsh grip on the steering wheel in front of me, my eyes focused on the straight, black road ahead of me.

“You okay, man?” Kennedy asked, shifting uncomfortably in the seat next to me. I barely bothered to glance sideways at him, and made even less of an effort to respond.

“I’m fine,” I lied, my grip on the steering wheel tightening enough to make my knuckles go white.

“You don’t seem fine to me,” he muttered. I remained silent for another moment or two, weighing the outcomes of telling him everything that was currently bombarding my brain.

“Look, I don’t badger you about your love life,” I retorted, after deciding I would do best not to drag Kennedy’s unsolicited advice into the matter.

“Aha!” he exclaimed, practically making me jump in my seat. “So it concerns your love life, I see.”

I cursed under my breath for letting myself slip up as badly as I just had.

“Don’t think I’m going to talk to you about it,” I warned before he could pester me any more.

“Oh, come on,” he sighed. “Just talk to me about Allie.”

I felt my expression change as soon as he said her name. I could think about her all I wanted and remain sane, but as soon as someone said her name, it was like I softened into this whole new person. My heart swelled and broke all at once.

“When I talked to her the other day,” I began quietly, “she was upset that I wasn’t coming home until Tuesday, which is why I decided to fly back tonight, instead of waiting to drive back with the rest of the guys. Thanks for coming with me, by the way.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he dismissed quickly, before pressing on again. “Did you talk – “

“Don’t,” I warned, before he could continue. I didn’t know exactly what he was going to ask, but I had a feeling that I wouldn’t want to answer his question.

“Don’t what?” Kennedy asked, confused.

“We got in a fight yesterday,” I sighed, releasing one of my hand’s grip on the steering wheel to rub my face wearily. “She told me to not even bother coming home this time.”

Kennedy was quiet, but then I heard him mutter an “oh” as he began to understand. I didn’t say anything more as I turned onto his street and pulled into his driveway.

“Look, man,” Kenendy said as he got out of the car and began to pull his luggage out of the back seat, “just try to go talk to her. She can’t keep you away like this.”

I nodded, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything in response.

“Do you love her?” he asked, shutting his door, and then sticking his head into the open window. “Do you love Allie?”

“Yes,” I said, without so much as a millisecond’s hesitation.

“Then go tell her.”

With that, he sent me a wave and loped up the path to the front door, where I was more than certain his own girl would be waiting for him with open arms. I couldn’t help but frown at the thought of having no such luck for myself.

The lonesome, ten-minute drive to my own home was quiet, save for the rush of wind in and out of the open windows. I pulled haphazardly into the driveway, staring up at the two-story house that loomed over me. I didn’t bother to yank my suitcases out of the trunk; instead, I made my way directly to the front door, digging around in my pocket for my own copy of the key to the front door.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, I couldn’t help but smile softly at the familiarity of it all. We hadn’t lived here long, but it felt like home, just like every time I stepped through the doorway. It was a small house, just big enough for us.

I took the stairs quietly, two at a time, until I reached the second door on the left. The door was ajar, allowing a sliver of light from the hallway to seep into the bedroom, something that had, for some reason, always seemed to bother me. I nudged the door open, wincing as its hinges creaked in the dim silence. I stopped, holding my breath as I prayed that I hadn’t woken her. As soon as I noticed she wasn’t stirring, I stepped into the room and shuffled silently to sit on the edge of the bed.

A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I watched her chest rise and fall with each breath she took. I ran my hand gently over her soft, sandy blonde curls that were forever enchanting me. I would never cease to be astounded by her beauty, I thought to myself.

“I missed you,” I found myself whispering. I figured my hushed voice wouldn’t have woken her; she had been, for as long as I could remember, an impossibly sound sleeper. Instead, however, I watched as her startlingly green eyes fluttered open, and a tiny smile graced her lips.

“Hey baby,” I whispered, smiling at her. Her eyelids, still heavy with sleep, drooped, and I thought she had fallen back into a slumber, before her quiet, musical voice reached my ears.

“I love you.”