I check the time. I suppose it’s okay to text her again. It’s been a couple of hours.
Hey. I’ve been thinking of you.
She’s probably working, so I don’t worry when she doesn’t respond right away. I just start to lose myself in my work again. We’re planning a new expansive development to the north, and it’s really exciting. Open land provides far more ground-up possibilities than the lots in the city usually provide. So we’re designing an all-inclusive community. Everything from student living for the local college to restaurants and a coworking space alongside the housing.
It’s honestly the most excited that I’ve been about a project in a long time. Doing this, it can be a little boring sometimes. The same forms and papers and steps and approvals over and over again. It can be monotonous, even if the end product is usually rewarding.
I lose myself in my work so thoroughly that the next time I look up it’s the end of the workday, and there’s still been no response from Justine. Anxiety suddenly bubbles in my gut. After the close call of the accident yesterday, that’s where my thoughts go. Is she all right?
I type out another text to her. Miraculously, because of my mood, I’ve gotten through all the work I absolutely have to do today. And if she wanted to join me out or at home, that would be wonderful.
I’m heading home. I’d love to see you, if you’re free.
I walk the short distance home—as I do most days. Justine would probably laugh and tell me that she would expect me to be driving some absurd luxury car. And I have the cars. Several of them. But Portland is a beautiful city, and especially in the summer I prefer to walk.
No text from Justine when I get home, and none while I’m eating later or during the time I decide to read. It’s so rare that I have the time, it’s good to stretch out and relax my mind in that way. I really should do it more often.
When I’m about to go to bed, I send one final text saying good night, but at this point I don’t expect any kind of response. It’s not exactly a surprise that my mind doesn’t allow me to fall asleep. Because I can’t stop thinking about her and wondering if she’s okay.
And if she is okay, then why hasn’t she answered? Everything was fine when she left this morning. More than fine. She seemed excited at the prospect of seeing me again, and reluctant to leave at all. What possibly could have changed?
I don’t like problems that I can’t solve, and it’s not something that I can solve if I don’t have the reason behind it. Maybe she just had a long day. Maybe her phone died. Maybe I’ll wake up to more texts from her.
Either way, there’s no chance that I’m sleeping right now. I get up and make my way up to the roof. No matter what anyone says, owning a penthouse comes with its benefits. Roof access is one of those.
I’ve remodeled the roof into a patio garden. Comfortable chairs and chaise lounges along with flowering plant boxes and displays. I think it’s a place that Justine would like if she saw it, and I’m hoping that I get to show it to her at some point.
Settling into one of my favorite chairs, I look at the sky. There’s a shocking lack of stars here thanks to the city’s glow. I do love this city, and the view from this building is undeniably spectacular, but I’m partial to a view of the open sky, even if it is mostly devoid of stars.
Looking up always reminds me of my favorite place in the world. A field filled with fireflies, a little to the south. Close enough to the coast that you could smell the ocean. And if you really put your mind to it, you could hear the sea. Or maybe it was my imagination like seashells. Either way, I liked to imagine.
The sky looked so big. Infinite. The stars bright enough to touch, the complete absence of artificial light making it possible to see the Milky Way.
I’ll never forget those nights. I spent a lot of them in that field, staring at the stars until my eyes burned with exhaustion, choking on humidity and heat, trying to block out the lonely thoughts. But as lonely as it always was…
It was quiet. Peaceful.
There was no fighting, screaming, or yelling.
I haven’t been there in years, and in the time since this roof has become that peaceful place for me. But I don’t feel particularly peaceful tonight. I feel anxious, and the mood that I was riding all day is fading. Getting up, I head back inside. I don’t want to cloud the space with my racing thoughts, so instead I head back inside and say a small prayer that I can get some sleep.