Steven spent the rest of the afternoon between the game and the group chat, which had quieted down considerably from its Thursday peak but hadn't gone silent.
He cooked dinner in the early evening, something simple and well-executed, and ate at the dining table with the city visible through the window in its Friday night register.
When he was done, he cleared the table, washed up, and moved to the sofa.
He picked up his phone and called Lena.
She answered on the second ring.
"I said I'd call," Steven said.
"You did," she said. "And you did. I'm impressed."
"Don't be. It's a low bar."
She laughed. "It is, but you'd be surprised how many people don't clear it."
He settled deeper into the cushions. Through the windows, the skyline pressed its light against the dark.
"How was the rest of your day?" he asked.
