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GABRIEL:
Do you need me to get some food delivered?
My heart beats a little faster at his thoughtfulness.
ME:
No, Tammy’s gone to sort some out.
GABRIEL:
If you change your mind, I’ll get Jason to package some up and have it delivered.
I smile. It’s seldom, but occasionally when we’ve been working late. Jason is our go-to restauranteur when we’re both too tired to cook.
ME:
Jason is on the opposite side of town.
GABRIEL:
If you want it. I’ll make it worth his while.
I smile, knowing he would, even if he had to collect and drive it here himself.
ME:
Honestly. The food Tammy brings will be fine.
GABRIEL:
How’s your head? Your ankle?
ME:
I’m in one piece. I can’t believe I was that stupid. When I think of what could have happened?
My hand goes to my still flat stomach.
GABRIEL:
Elijah pulled up the footage. The cyclist was weaving in and out.
ME:
Cyclists do that. I’ve lived here all my life. I know how to cross the road. I was an idiot.
GABRIEL:
I’m just grateful you’re okay.
There’s a pause.
ME:
What are you doing?
GABRIEL:
