She didn't even know if he still used the number she called, if he was still at that house they shared, but she couldn't help it. Before Sophia even knew what she was doing, she had dialed. Her fingers faster than they should be with so much scotch in her system. The best she could buy, of course. She never had much taste for anything on the lower shelves, and tonight was the sort of night for something hard.
In the dim light of early morning that slipped unwanted into her hotel room, she was surrounded by old books and piles of notes, some printed, some scrolled out in her own shorthand. He'd have said it was illegible, but still smiled since it was perfect for someone that studied so much history and dead languages. Handwriting was a dead language these days. That comment would have made him crack a smile. Maybe.
Maybe this was too much, maybe this sort of hunt was a younger woman's game. Maybe he was right. That's what she'd say. She'd tell him that he had been right and she was so tired, that they should try again in another little town or the same one if he wanted. But Sophie knew better, deep in her body, she knew it wouldn't work out. The soles of her feet were not meant for house slippers and home gardens, those slim fingers of hers should be touching artifacts that had been created by legends and not washing lasagna off of dishes, and the body that could give him children, could be waiting for him at night, it should be out in the world, finding her fortune, preening with wealth. And deep down she knew that.
She didn't hear if the phone rang, only that it stopped. The sudden silence on the line made her stumble. What time was it there? Her tongue grew fuzz in her mouth. Instead of the words of need, of regret that had started her fingers off, she found herself afraid and speechless. Even if she could force herself to say those things, to change for him, would he want her? Would he want her do different from this woman she was truly? After a long moment of silence, the receiver away from her ear, she mumbled into it.
"Sorry, wrong number..." The voice that she gave barely sounded like herself. Was she so far gone now? So far lost in her greed, her glamour? She didn't know. She doubted if Sully could give her an answer either, not one that she wanted. So instead, she hung up the phone, pulling the cord from the back to keep it quiet. Just in case. That night, all that warmed her bed was an empty bottle and the papers she was too exhausted to put away properly.