Austin woke up in his own bed without fully remembering how he'd gotten there. The jazz bar had become something else—the whiskey had become several whiskeys, and the pianist had introduced herself as Margaret (different Margaret, not the investor). She played until midnight, and they'd talked between sets about music and life and the things that drove people to create things that mattered.
By the time he left, he felt lighter. Not happy exactly, but less heavy.
His phone showed three messages from Angel: "Where are you?", "You missed the showing.", "Call me when you get this."
One message from Salma: "Come to family dinner Sunday. I'm making your favorite."
One from Clara: "Thanks for coming to my event. It meant a lot."
One from Lee: "Everything good? You seemed different last night."
Austin sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, staring at the messages. His mother wanted him at family dinner. His sister appreciated his presence. His ex was expecting him to account for his time. His guard was noticing changes in his behavior.
The weight was building again. All these threads, all these connections, all these expectations. He was dying, and they didn't know it, and that meant he was lying to every single one of them every single day.
His phone rang. Angel. He almost didn't answer. But he did.
"Where were you last night?" she asked. Her voice suggested she'd been rehearsing the question, trying different tones.
"Had to take care of something," Austin said. "Family thing."
"You could have told me. I waited for you at the showing. I invited some people specifically because I knew you'd be there."
"I'm sorry," Austin said, and he meant it. "I should have called."
"Yes, you should have," Angel said. "Austin, I like you. I really do. But I can't do this if you're not all in. I need someone who actually shows up."
"I know," Austin said.
"So what's it going to be?" Angel asked.
Austin looked out his window at the city below. Somewhere down there, people were making promises they might not keep. People were building lives. People were dying without knowing when.
"I'm going to try," Austin said. "But I need you to understand that things are complicated for me right now."
"How complicated?" Angel asked.
"Very," Austin said. "I can't really explain it. But if you can accept that I'm holding back part of myself, then maybe we can make this work."
There was a long silence.
"I don't like not knowing things," Angel said finally.
"I know," Austin said. "But that's what I can offer right now."