The Riddle of Us

The orange sunset bled through the window as Maya watched Tom on the couch. He was a zombie in the truest sense—alive but not present, his face illuminated by the cold glow of his iPhone. They'd been together three years, and somehow she'd become the sphinx in their relationship: silent, inscrutable, watching from stone-still distance as he scrolled through whatever digital world felt more real than her.

"Did you hear me?" she asked.

"Hmm?" He didn't look up. The charging cable snaked across the floor like a black umbilical, keeping him anchored to the wall socket even as he drifted away from her.

"I said I'm leaving, Tom. Not just the apartment. Us."

That got his attention. His thumb froze mid-scroll. "What? Why?"

"Because I don't know who you are anymore."

He laughed bitterly, finally setting down the phone. "That's rich. You're the one who's been a sphinx for months. I can't get you to talk about anything real."

Maya felt the truth of it like a physical blow. "I've been trying. Every night. You're the zombie here, Tom—dead to everything but that screen."

The silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. Outside, the last of the orange light faded into gray.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't realize..."

She reached for her own phone—she was no better. They were both zombies, both half-alive, both choosing the easy comfort of screens over the hard work of being present. The cable lay between them like a chasm.

"Riddle me this," she whispered. "What's the difference between being alone and being lonely?"

Tom looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in months. "I don't know. But I think I've been both."

Maya sat beside him. Their hands found each other in the dying light. The answer to the sphinx's riddle was simple: the difference was whether someone was reaching back.

"I'm scared too," she said. "But I'd rather be lonely together than dead apart."

"Stay," he said. "Please."

The orange of sunset was gone, replaced by the blue of evening. But something had shifted. They were still there, still present, still trying.