She Apologised for Calling Me

The phone rang three times in one afternoon. Three times I let it go, telling myself I'd call back later. I did call back that evening, and the first thing she said wasn't news at all — it was an apology. Sorry for calling.

Then she asked, careful as someone addressing a stranger: "Am I bothering you?" I managed one syllable back before my throat closed. Because a sentence like that doesn't come from nowhere. She learned it — from the rushed pickups, the clipped answers, the times I let it ring out. Whoever taught her to think of herself as a burden, it turns out, was me.

So every time she says "you're busy, aren't you, I'll hang up" — and hangs up. Nobody said busy. She goes first so I never have to be the one who does, taking the awkward part onto herself so I don't have to feel small. Scroll the call history and every row is the same stub of a thing.

Once she asked the same question three times over: are you well. By the third time I understood — she had nothing to ask. She just needed a reason to hear me answer. And I answered in two syllables and let it end there.

She doesn't need me to tell her anything. And still I begrudged her the "mm."

When was the last time you let it ring out? What did the person on the other end learn from it?