Swallowing hard, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the night away, willing the alcohol out of my system, and willing myself to forget the way he looked at me when he said, ‘Pick a girl. I’ll take her out tomorrow.’

I pressed the heels of my palms against my closed eyes, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. Nothing could drown out the heavy pressure on my chest, the dull ache of Blake shutting me out.

Goodnight, Beverly.

Rolling onto my side, I fumbled blindly for the phone I’d tossed onto the sheets. My fingers curled around it, gripping the small device like it was my lifeline. I brought it close, my breath hitching when I clicked a button and the screen flickered to life.

NOKIA

I blinked against the dull glow that cut through the darkness of my room, struggling to make sense of the tiny buttons. My vision was blurred by unshed tears, alcohol, and regret.

The guilt was still there, curling under my ribs like a bruise.

With trembling hands, I pressed a few buttons, half expecting it to explode in my grasp.

A menu popped up. No missed calls. No messages.

It took me longer than I’d like to admit to get to my contacts. There were only two saved numbers. Home and Blake.

My chest caved in.

He’d already saved himself in my phone. Of course, he had.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to open a new message. My fingers froze over the keyboard as I tried to figure out what I wanted to say.

I typed the first thing that came to mind.

I hit send before I could overthink it. My heart raced wildly as I stared at the screen, desperately willing him to answer.

A second passed.

Then another.

Then the phone buzzed.

I clicked the button, and his reply appeared.

That sick feeling in my stomach only got worse.

I blinked at the screen, my vision growing even blurrier, my fingers shaking as I tried to type something else.

I licked my lips, hesitating.

I wanted to apologize, but I didn’t know where to start.

So I typed something else instead.

I typed, deleted, typed again.

My lips twitched despite everything.

A few seconds passed.

I huffed out a small, breathy laugh.

I bit my lip. I wasn’t even sure why I was still annoying him, why I was still trying to pull something out of him after everything I’d done tonight. But I couldn’t stop.

I felt a shift in the weight pressing down on my chest, just a little. It wasn’t relief, but something close. I curled in on myself, gripping the phone tighter. There were so many things I wanted to say, but none of them felt like enough.

I stared at the words until my vision blurred again.

The words seemed pathetic even as I sent them.

I didn’t deserve his patience, understanding, or kindness.