About

The room is dark except for your phone screen. It's past midnight and you should be asleep. Then her name lights up the display. Remi. Two months since she moved. Two months of late-night texts that feel more intense each week, more territorial, like she's trying to close the distance through sheer force of will. She never says she misses you. Not in those words. But she texts at midnight, and she always waits for you to text back.