The Last Storm

The iphone screen illuminated Emma's face in the darkness — 3:14 AM. She'd been staring at Marcus's text for twenty minutes. *I can't do this anymore. I'm staying at the hotel.*

Outside, lightning fractured the sky, a violent crack that shook the windowpanes. Emma's palm pressed against the cold glass, feeling the vibrations of the house settling into itself. Seven years of marriage, reduced to five lines of text.

She walked through their home — their home — touching things that had accumulated like sediment in a riverbed. The coffee mug he'd used that morning, still bearing the imprint of his lip balm. His running shoes by the door, laces still knotted the way she'd tied them two days ago when she'd jokingly said, *Let me help you with that, you're hopeless.*

The iphone buzzed again. Marcus. She didn't pick up.

In the bedroom, she found herself sitting on his side of the bed, something she'd done unconsciously since the argument began. His pillow still smelled like him — cedar and that expensive shampoo she'd bought him for Christmas. The Christmas where they'd both pretended everything was fine.

The truth was, nothing had been fine for months. Maybe years. They'd been two people performing a marriage, reciting lines they'd memorized until the words had lost all meaning. *I love you.* *How was your day?* *We should try that new restaurant.* All scripts, all hollow.

Another lightning strike, closer this time. The storm had moved in quickly, like these things do — atmospheric pressure dropping, the air growing heavy with unsaid things. Her palm curled around the iphone, fingers tightening until the casing groaned.

She thought about calling him. About begging. About saying the things she should have said a thousand times ago: *I'm lonely even when you're here. I don't know who I am anymore. We're growing apart and I'm scared.*

Instead, she typed three words: *I understand. Come home.*

Then she deleted them.

Emma stood and walked to the window. The storm was breaking now, the lightning retreating into the distance. A few more flashes, then darkness. She placed the iphone on the windowsill, screen down, and watched the rain wash over the glass, blurring the world outside until everything looked like something else entirely.