“Have you ever read Bertrand Russell?”
“No. Who is that?”
“He was a mathematician. Anyway, he said, ‘Those who feel certainty are stupid, and those with any imagination and understanding are filled with doubt and indecision.’ I think that’s especially true with knowing oneself. As soon as you grow certain of something, you’ve closed your mind to other possibilities.”
I was too tired to give the words the consideration they deserved, so I said without thinking, “Then I guess I’m stupid for you.”
A short beat, and then she replied quietly, “That’s a relief.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. Because I didn’t want to be the only one of us who was stupid.” The tenderness in her voice had me imagining her face, her smile, her eyes.
My heart constricted painfully, I lost my breath for a moment, overwhelmed by how much I wanted . . . I just wanted . . .
I want her to be here.
Before I could catch myself, I said, “I miss you. So much.”
Her laugh tapered, and I heard her release a soft breath before responding earnestly, “I miss you too.”
7
Stellar Parallax
*Abram*
“Here you go, Mr. Fletcher.” A PA hired by our manager, this one also happened to be his niece, placed a cup of tea in front of me, giving me a nervous smile. “I put honey and lemon in it, just how you like.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, distractedly picking up the cup while I flipped through the list of interview questions for later in the day.
Seconds later, the sound of items clattering to the ground had me glancing up. The items were photos of the band and black markers for signing them. She must’ve bumped into the stool where they sat, but she also must’ve done something else, like push the stack at an odd angle, because they were now everywhere.
“Oh God. Sorry.” She squatted, flushing red, and worked to gather the fallen items. “Sorry about that.”
I stood, sending a look to Charlie.
Charlie stepped up. “Don’t worry. Abram and I will pick it up.”