What the Riddle Asked

You're like a sphinx, David said, sitting at the edge of the bed. Always watching, never telling me what you're thinking.

Emma continued braiding her hair, dark strands slipping through her fingers like water. She didn't turn around. Some riddles don't have answers, she said softly.

That's bullshit, he snapped. The word hung in the air between them, heavy and sudden. We've been together three years and I still don't know who you are. I don't know what you want.

She finally turned. Her hair fell loose over one shoulder, wild and dark against her pale skin. David noticed for the first time that there were silver threads at her temples. How long had those been there?

I want you to stop looking at me like I'm a problem you can solve, she said. Her voice cracked. I want you to love the parts you don't understand.

The bullheaded part of him wanted to push, to demand clarity, to refuse comfort until he'd won. But something in her expression stopped him. She looked tired in a way that went beyond sleep—a deep, essential weariness he'd never really seen before.

What if I can't? he asked. What if I need to know?

Then we'll have a problem, she said. She stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the city lights flickered like dying stars. I showed you my worst self last week. When I couldn't get out of bed. When I cried for three hours over nothing.

I hated that, he admitted.

I know.

I didn't hate you, he said quickly. I just—hated feeling helpless. Felt like I was failing you.

Emma turned back to him. The light caught the silver in her hair like moonlight on water. You can't fix me, David. You can only love me.

The riddle, he realized, wasn't about solving her. It was about staying anyway.

He stood up and crossed the room, stopping behind her. He reached out and touched her shoulder, feeling the tension there. Outside, a siren wailed through the streets. Some nights, he thought, you don't need answers. You just need to not be alone.

Okay, he said. Okay. Let's try again.

Emma leaned back against him, and for the first time in months, something in her seemed to soften. The sphinx, he discovered, didn't need to be solved. It just needed to sit still long enough to be seen.