Selma left her phone open to a translator on the table beside the salt and bread. Tomas brought flowers and a prepared sentence that sounded, once spoken, like thanks for a business meeting. Both laughed. They met through mutual friends, where someone could always supply a missing word. This was their first dinner without that help, and the potatoes were cooling while they checked how to ask for water.
Tomas had worked in the city for several months on a project that didn't require Bosnian. Selma spoke enough of his language for ordinary conversation but struggled to find words when something mattered. At gatherings, she therefore seemed calmer than she was. Tomas thought he was too talkative. Selma thought her silence soothed him. Neither checked that small, attractive assumption.
During dinner, the phone translated one sentence as though he wanted to leave immediately. Selma began clearing plates. Tomas stopped her, pointed at the clock, and explained more simply that he wished the evening would pass more slowly. They stood in the kitchen holding the same plate. Selma put it down and said they needed to stop accepting the screen's first answer as the final version of the other's feelings.
They began speaking more briefly, repeating without apology, and laughing only at mistakes both understood. Selma said she actually enjoyed debating and wasn't especially patient when tired. Tomas admitted often talking to hide discomfort. They didn't choose a shared language that evening. They chose to ask again, even when nodding and remaining appealing in the wrong role would be easier.
When his project neared its end, Selma directly asked whether he wanted to continue their relationship. She didn't leave a word she knew well to the phone. Tomas said yes, but couldn't promise a permanent return. The conversation lasted a long time, with paper, dates, and occasional searches for words. They arranged their next meeting without treating a calendar as proof that every future difficulty was solved.
On the last evening before his departure, they prepared the same meal that had cooled the first time. This time, the phone stayed on a shelf. Tomas mispronounced the side dish's name, and Selma corrected him only when asked. Afterwards, they sat close without needing every silence translated. When he said he would miss her, she understood immediately. Still, she asked him to repeat it, for a reason unrelated to language.