Chapter 23: The Question

The hotel room was on the ninth floor, and the whole city was in the window.

Lena stood in front of it in the emerald gown with her shoes in her hand.

I sat on the edge of the bed with the trophy on the nightstand and my tie in my fist.

My phone lay beside it, face up.

It had not buzzed since the lobby.

"Your mother cried through the whole second half," Lena said.

"She cried through the first half, too."

"She asked me about the wedding date three times in the elevator."

"What did you say?"

"That I'd ask the groom." She dropped the shoes by the door. "So I'm asking."

I looked at her.

She had one hand on her hip and the ring on the other, catching the window light.

I had put it on her finger in April, on the Kellner lab bench, at one in the morning.

It had taken her a full minute to say yes. She had made me say the question out loud twice.

"June," I said.

"Which June?"

"This coming one. If you want."

"Where?"

"I don't know yet."

"That's the part I'm asking about."

She sat down next to me on the bed, and the silk made a soft sound.

"There's a phone on the nightstand that might know the answer."

"It doesn't know," I said. "Not anymore."

"It knows something."

"Lena."

"I'm not telling you to look." She picked it up and put it in my palm.

"I want to hear what you would ask it. All of it. Out loud."

I held the phone in both hands.

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