But I knew that. I’d considered all the bumps and curves we’d hit along the way, and I was willing, prepared, to brave each and every fallout with her. We’ve already survived so much together. We’ve weathered through the most turbulent storms. We've faced things that would keep the most fearless person up at night. We’ve looked death in the eye and persevered.

And yet, she runs from this.

From me.

But I suppose matters of the heart can be the scariest thing of all.

I stretch out on the couch, pulling up my blanket and calling in an order for Chinese food. I glance at Cora’s name and our last string of messages, and I notice a text from her that I never opened. It was in response to me telling her that I’d be at her house in fifteen minutes:

Cora: That’s not a good idea

Would that have stopped me from driving over there in the middle of the night to try and comfort her in the dark?

Probably not.

But she tried. She tried to stop it.

I feel like a guilty asshole, even though I know what happened between us was real and inevitable and consensual. We both wanted it. We both craved it.

But I know her heart—I know that her loyalty to her sister will always be a jagged wedge between us. Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe it was too soon. I swipe at her name on my screen and type out a message I’m sure I’ll regret instantly.

Me: I don’t want to fight with you. I understand why you’re scared and I totally fuckin get it. But whatever is between us isn’t gonna go away. Last night was everything, and I know you felt it too. We can go slower. We can start over. Just don’t shut me out…we’re in this together :)

I add the smiley face because Mandy always said it was the key to texting in order to get your proper feelings across. One time she had an entire conversation with me using only emojis, and it was strange and confusing.

The message shows ‘read’ almost immediately, so I hold my breath and wait. I wait for those little bouncing dots to appear, telling me she’s thinking, telling me she’s responding… but they never come.

I check my phone periodically in between my Kung Pao Chicken and Sons of Anarchy marathon, but there’s still no response.

Dammit.

I glance at the time on my phone, noting it’s already after ten P.M. I have to be up for work in six hours. Groaning with frustration, I toss the phone beside me on the couch and run both hands through my hair, letting out a weary sigh of defeat. I stand up, dragging my blanket to the bedroom with me, when I hear my phone ring from the couch.

I pause. Then I drop the blanket and jog towards my cell phone, my heart thundering with anticipation and relief when I see Cora’s name light up the face.