A Glass of Water Before the First Bus

At the motel, Damir asked for a room facing the parking lot. He placed his bag on the bed and, on the table, money he had transferred without authorization from the small studio he co-owned. He had intended to return it before anyone noticed. Then the deal meant to cover the shortage collapsed, and his partner discovered he had been lying to her for months about their savings.

He bought a bus ticket for the morning. He told himself he needed only a few days to devise an explanation, although he had brought all his documents and clothes for a much longer journey. Around two, someone knocked. The woman from the neighboring room held an empty glass. Her faucet was not working, and reception was locked. Damir gave her the bottle he had bought at a gas station.

Her name was Azra. She was waiting for the morning bus home after discovering that the man she had been messaging for months had a wife. She had come expecting to see his apartment and meet his friends. He sent her the motel address and an explanation that things were complicated at the moment. Azra said she was ashamed to have believed him. Damir replied that she was not the one who had lied, then immediately felt the weight of his own words.

They sat outside their rooms because the hallway was warmer. Azra said her father had advised her to come home as soon as she could, without worrying about what the neighbors would say. He had once lost a good job because he admitted his own mistake before it became someone else's problem. He had earned less for the rest of his life, but never needed to remember which version he had told to whom.

Before dawn, Damir opened his laptop. He returned the remaining money to the studio's account and sent his co-owner the real amounts and documents. He wrote where he was and said he would appear in the morning with a legal adviser. He did not ask for forgiveness in the same message. He told his partner he would not disappear and did not expect her to defend him. Then he placed his phone on the table, switched on.

He walked Azra to the bus. He did not tell her she had saved him or try to turn their night into the beginning of love. It was enough that, briefly, they had treated each other honestly. He did not use his own ticket. At a bakery beside the station, he bought a bread roll and sat over it for a long time, waiting for the meeting. When his phone rang, he looked at his business partner's name. He answered before he could invent another excuse.