The message lasted eleven seconds. A woman's voice said she had arrived home, had enjoyed herself, and was sending a kiss. Dino listened three times before checking the sender's name. It was Una, a producer he had worked with for the first time that day on a commercial shoot.
On set, they had talked for perhaps ten minutes. She asked what he listened to while editing, and he answered at excessive length, convinced he was boring her. Now every detail took on a new meaning. Perhaps she had stayed beside his desk because she wanted to. Perhaps the question about music had not been casual.
Before he replied, a second message arrived: "Sorry, wrong chat." Dino wrote that it was no problem. Still, he did not delete the first one. Over the following days, he listened to it while walking home. He knew it was not meant for him, but that voice had opened the possibility of a life in which someone wanted to know, in the evening, whether he had arrived safely.
When he was invited to work with her again, he began imagining their meeting. He bought a shirt he did not need and invented a witty remark about misdirected messages. Una arrived with her partner, a camera operator helping with the equipment. She greeted Dino warmly, in a perfectly ordinary voice.
His disappointment embarrassed him. No one had promised him anything. During the break, he went into the courtyard and stared at his phone. Una asked whether he was all right. He could have said he was tired, but he admitted that her message had carried him away a little. He said it without expecting her to comfort him.
Una sat on a step far enough away to keep the conversation clear. She said she understood how that could happen, but she did not know him in that way. Dino nodded. He felt awkward, yet more at ease than during all those weeks of trying to turn an accident into a sign.
That evening, he deleted the message. Instead of staying in the studio, he went to a small concert a colleague had been inviting him to for ages. They did not fall in love that night. They talked about music, argued over a song, and agreed to go again.
When she later messaged to say she had arrived home, he did not search for a hidden promise. He asked whether she wanted lunch the next day. Her answer was short and meant specifically for him.