That was the priority.
Not:
Are you hurt?
Did something happen?
Have I upset you?
The reservation.
System still operational.
Later during dinner, she said:
"The internet has been weird."
"Okay."
"Can you call them tomorrow?"
"No."
She put down her fork.
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"You found the problem."
"I have confidence in you."
She stared.
"Are you having a midlife crisis?"
"I'm thirty-eight."
"Early midlife crisis."
"Nice."
"I'm ahead of schedule."
"Ethan."
"What?"
"You're impossible."
That night, I lay awake again.
By then anger had started changing into observation.
Over the next two days, I stopped automatically filling gaps.
Not maliciously.
I simply waited.
The trash was full.
Rachel eventually took it out.
A delivery needed a signature.
She rearranged her schedule.
Her car made a clicking noise.
Instead of asking me to diagnose it, she called the dealership after I said:
"You should probably have somebody look at that."
Every inconvenience became proof of something depressing.
She could do these things.
She had simply stopped because I always would.
Thursday afternoon, Rachel called.
"Can you pick me up at six?"
"No."
A pause.
"Why?"
"I have plans."
"What plans?"
"Mine."
"You've been saying that a lot."
"I recently discovered I have a life."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like."
Another silence.
Then:
"You were more helpful before."
She said it casually.
Then:
"What?"
I realized I had spoken aloud.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
"You said something about helpful."
"Then I guess you heard me."
She went quiet.
For the first time, I could almost hear her mind beginning to search backward.
"Are you mad at me?"
Finally.
Warm.
"Why would I be?"
"I don't know."
"That's why I'm asking."
"I'm fine."
"You're obviously not."
"Then why ask?"
She hung up.
That evening, she confronted me when I got home.
"You are deliberately trying to piss me off."
I put my keys down.
"Is it working?"
"Very funny."
"I try."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
Rachel crossed her arms.
"This passive-aggressive crap is getting old."
I nodded thoughtfully.
"And I thought the only passive thing around here was my family subscription."
Her expression changed.
There.
A flicker.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No."
"You said subscription."
"Did I?"
"Ethan."
I walked toward the kitchen.
She followed.