Chapter 33: The space between words

It was a Wednesday evening. Not one of the nights they had scheduled for work.

Not one of the nights where late calls and investor meetings dictated their time. This time, it was quiet and ordinary.

The kind of evening Emily had been trying to hold onto ever since Liam came home from the hospital.

She stood in the kitchen, her phone resting on the counter beside her, a document open on the screen.

It had come in less than an hour ago. It’s a minor merger document. An addendum that required review.

It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t complicated and it was something that could have easily waited until morning or been handled over email.

Emily stared at it anyway. Her fingers hovered over the screen then she picked up the phone.

She didn’t think too long about it because if she did, she might not have made the call.

Ethan answered on the second ring. “Emily.” His voice was steady as if he had been expecting her.

“I just received an updated document,” she said, keeping her tone neutral. “There’s a clause I want to clarify.”

“Send it to me,” he said immediately.

“I already did.”

There was a brief pause. “I see it,” he said after a second.

They talked through it quickly and efficiently like they always did when it came to work.

“The wording here is too vague,” Emily said, leaning against the counter. “It opens the door for interpretation.”

Ethan hummed slightly. “You’re right. It needs to be tightened.”

“I can have legal revise it in the morning.”

“Do that,” he said. “We don’t want any ambiguity at this stage.”

“Agreed.” They wrapped it up in less than ten minutes and there was nothing else to say about the document.

It was done, handled and completed. And yet…Neither of them hung up. The line stayed open and quiet but not uncomfortable.

Emily didn’t move. She could hear the faint background noise on his end. Papers shifting. A door closing somewhere in the distance.

“Is everything else alright?” Ethan asked after a moment.

She hesitated, then said, “Yes.”

Another pause. Then he asked, more gently, “How is Liam?”

Something in her chest softened. “He’s good,” she said.

She moved from the kitchen into the living room, lowering herself slowly onto the couch. “He’s been… energetic.”

Ethan’s voice carried a faint hint of amusement. “That sounds like him.”

Emily allowed a small smile. “He told me a story at dinner,” she said.

“Oh?”

“About a dragon,” she continued. “But not the kind that breathes fire and destroys things.”

Ethan didn’t interrupt. He just listened.

“This one works in a bakery,” Emily added.

There was a small pause. Then Ethan said, “A dragon… that works in a bakery.”

“Yes.”

“What does he bake?” he asked.

Emily shifted slightly, leaning back into the couch. “Bread. Cakes. Apparently, he’s very good at pastries.”

Ethan let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “I see.”

“He burns things sometimes,” Emily continued, her voice softening without her noticing. “Accidentally. But Liam says that makes the bread ‘extra special.’”

Ethan didn’t say anything for a moment. Emily wondered briefly if she had said too much.

Then he spoke. “That sounds like something Liam would come up with.”

“It does,” she said.

There was another pause. Emily stared at the floor, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her phone.

She hadn’t meant to stay on the call this long. Hadn’t meant to talk about Liam’s stories. Hadn’t meant for the conversation to drift.

But it had and now… She took a slow breath. “Ethan.”

“Yes?”

Her voice changed slightly, quieter and more deliberate. “There’s something I haven’t said.”

He didn’t respond immediately but she knew he was listening.

“When Liam collapsed at school,” she began, her gaze unfocused now, her thoughts pulling her back to that moment, “and they called me.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

“I remember how it felt. The panic. The way everything just… stopped making sense for a second.”

Ethan said nothing. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t try to fill the silence.

Emily continued. “And then, right after that…” she paused, swallowing slightly. “The first thought I had was that I was alone.”

The words settled into the space between them. Heavy and Unavoidable.

“There was no one I could call,” she added quietly. “No one who was equally responsible for what had happened.”

She didn’t say it with anger. Didn’t say it as an accusation. It was just a plain and honest fact.

Something that had been sitting in her chest for days, waiting to be acknowledged.

On the other end of the line, Ethan was silent. Completely silent.

For a long moment, Emily wondered if the call had dropped but she could still hear his breathing. Steady and present.

Then finally— “I’m sorry.”

Three words and Nothing more. There was no explanation, no defense or attempt to soften it or make it sound better.

Just… that. And there was something about the way he said it. It was rough and unpolished like it had cost him something to say it out loud.

Emily closed her eyes briefly. “I know,” she said.

She didn’t say it to dismiss him. She said it because she did know. Or at least… She believed he meant it.

Another silence followed.

Emily opened her eyes again. “I should go,” she said quietly.

“Okay,” Ethan replied.

She hesitated for half a second. Then—“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Emily.” She ended the call.

The room felt quieter than before as Emily stared at her phone, still in her hand. She didn’t move for several minutes.

Didn’t get up, didn't distract herself. She just sat there thinking or maybe not thinking at all. Just… feeling.

There was a shift inside her. It was small and subtle but undeniable.

The wall she had spent three years building—carefully, deliberately, piece by piece—was still there.

Strong and solid but there was a crack now. A thin real crack and she could feel it.

Like cold air slipping through a space that hadn’t existed before. She didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t know if she wanted to fix it, ignore it or pretend it wasn’t there at all.

She exhaled slowly and pushed herself up from the couch. Instead of deciding, she walked down the hallway. Past the quiet rooms until she reached Liam’s door.

She opened it gently. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a nightlight.

Liam was asleep and looked peaceful with his mouth slightly open and one arm thrown above his head.

In his other hand, he was still holding his Lego spaceship.

Emily stepped inside quietly. She stood there for a moment, just watching him.

Taking in the small details. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The way his fingers curled loosely around the toy and the quiet, unguarded way he slept.

Her chest tightened but not painfully. It was something else. Something softer.

She walked closer and adjusted his blanket gently. He didn’t stir.

Emily brushed a hand lightly over his hair. Then she stayed there watching.