But then…
“Are you okay?”
His voice.
It’s quiet, rough, like gravel and regret. Like he’s been biting the inside of his cheek all night to keep from dialing.
I press the phone tighter to my ear, closing my eyes.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
Because it’s the truth. I don’t. I feel like I’m suspended in midair, no solid ground, no clear direction, just this gnawing uncertainty eating at the edge of every thought.
He doesn’t say anything right away.
But I hear the faint exhale, like the answer hurt him.
“Meet me.”
Two words.
But they land like a lifeline.
I sit up in bed, heart hammering. My hand trembles slightly as I push the blanket away, the cold air kissing my bare shoulders.
“Sin…”
“Please.”
It’s barely a whisper.
But that one word , please, undoes everything.
He never begs. Not him.
“Do you know what’s going on?”
“Bria talked to me.” He sighs, “Your brother called me.”
I press my palm to my chest like that will somehow slow my racing heart.
I know I shouldn’t go.
I know what everyone would say, what I would have said to myself just days ago.
But none of that matters. Not when it’s his voice in the dark.
Not when I’ve felt so lost, and he’s the only thing that’s ever made me feel found.
I take a shaky breath.
“Where?”
There’s a pause. I can almost picture him now, leaning against a wall somewhere, maybe running a hand through his hair, trying not to sound too desperate.
“I’m outside, bring Axle. I’ll meet you by the park and watch your every step to make sure you’re safe.” He says finally. A beat. Then, softer. “I just… need to see you.”
And God, I need to see him too.
