There were even times when I thought perhaps I should stop trying to get close to him altogether.
And that was exactly when Robert’s behavior became even stranger.
He started carrying his phone everywhere.
Even into the bathroom.
He used to leave it on the table without thinking, but now he always placed it face down.
A few times, his phone rang and he stepped outside onto the balcony to answer.
Whenever I asked who it was, the answer was always the same.
“Work.”
Then he began coming home late.
Once at eleven.
The following week, almost at midnight.
“I had a meeting.”
I believed him.
Or perhaps I simply wanted to believe him.
Until that Tuesday evening.
Robert was in the shower.
I was making tea in the kitchen.
His phone was lying on the table.
Suddenly, the screen lit up.
I wasn’t planning to touch it.
