A Call in the Rain
It was one of those nights when the rain doesn’t just fall — it pours, drumming on the roof like a restless heartbeat. Daniel sat by his window, phone in hand, watching the streetlights blur through the drops. He hadn’t meant to wait for her call — he told himself he wouldn’t. But when her name lit up his screen, he answered before the second ring. “Hey you,” Amara’s voice crackled through the line, soft and warm like a blanket against the storm. “Hey.” He tried to sound casual, but he knew she’d hear it — the way his voice softened only for her. “I just wanted to hear you,” she said. “Are you okay?” Daniel closed his eyes. Of course I’m okay. I’m always okay when you call. But he only said, “Yeah. Just the rain.” They talked about everything and nothing — her cat curled on her lap, the movie she fell asleep watching, the funny way her neighbor sings in the shower. And then, like she always did, she whispered, “You know I love you, right?” His heart squeezed. He wanted to say I love yo...