Don't give

Ethan decides to not give her the phone.

“Oh, you’re no fun.” Layla drops her hand, letting out a resigned sigh. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” She sets her glass down, leaning up to get off the couch. “They say wine goes to your head, but it always seems to find my bladder.”

Giggling, she rises to her feet, padding across the floor to the washroom, turning the corner and disappearing from sight.

Alone. Ethan returns his attention to his phone.

E: Y?

Ethan waits for a response.

H: You know why.

The sound of water running in the background almost pulls Ethan’s attention away.

E: ?

Dots.

H: I still love you.

A toilet flushes as Ethan’s heart sinks.

He starts typing a few different things, but keeps deleting them. The dots must be going wild.

“You need to do laundry,” Layla declares, reentering the room and taking back her spot on the couch.“You have no fresh towels.”

“Oh sorry,” Ethan doesn't take his eyes off his phone. “I'll do that right away..”

He doesn't notice the frown on Layla’s face, but her tone speaks loud enough. “Ethan, are you alright?”

“I…” he looks at the words again. ‘I still love you.’ He chews on that.