Most likely

After he left with the box of old records, she opened the photo book to the shot he'd admired, and laid it on the floor, in the halo of light from her dresser lamp. Can you make me a copy of that one, he'd asked...She angled her phone so its shadow didn't obscure the shot, and zoomed in to the center of her own face. There was a bit of reflection from the floor lamp, but that couldn't be helped, she thought, and snapped the photo. Hit send.

The townhouse was quiet, all the lights were out except the lamp. Mutt had fallen asleep on the crumple of sheets and bedcover. She'd have to wake him when she climbed in herself. The papers she'd decided to keep, to take with them to Colorado, and the artworks she'd just shown J were still spread on the floor and chair; J said he'd straighten it out for her, since she had to go in to work so early tomorrow. Sunday. Last minute full day of work. She like the bridal shop. So many happy brides to be, and now she was one. Had been for almost a year. Brides would email her boss and praise her for her help. It would be a great job, if only the pay were better. But so was the art supply shop. The schedules could be weird, trying to juggle that and school and J, but it was worth it. Except it was exhausting. She could nod off at either job, or in class-- but then she couldn't fall asleep at home. Too quiet since Dad moved out. Thank God for Mutt, that pain in the butt little monster.


The photo was still uploading? Then Message Delivery Failed. Damn. She'd been laughing to herself at her little joke photo, but now she was irked. A storm was kicking up outside, maybe if she went downstairs to the patio it would go through. It wasn't quite raining so she just stepped outside with the phone and hit send again, watched the screen as the photo slowly churned through space to reach his phone. Why did it take this long? She smiled involuntarily, thinking of his expression when he got it. He might not see it till tomorrow, but that would be fine.