The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside.

That evening I sat at my kitchen island with my laptop open.

The house was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator.

Chloe was on a video call from her apartment in Seattle.

She sat on her gray sofa, talking very fast as she read from a thick yellow notebook.

“The florist confirmed the table centerpieces,” Chloe said.

“They arrive at ten on Saturday morning.

And I paid the four thousand dollars for the venue deposit from the joint account.”