She shakes her head. “No.” She folds her hands together and wrings them. “At the time, I thought I did,” she answers softly. “I was ending this tonight,” she says, and I look at her, not getting it. “This whole being friends with you. I was ending it because I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Why?” I ask her, my mind begging her to say it.

She walks away from me and goes to the window and looks out, and I wait with bated breath for her to say anything at this point. She turns around. “When Scott left, it took me three days not to think about him,” she says. “Three days and then it took me seven days to think back when was the last time I thought of him.” She turns back to look outside, and I hear her. “It’s been two months since I’ve felt your kiss, and I haven’t gone ten minutes without thinking about you.” My heart beats so fast and so hard, but I don’t know how to react. She turns back and now the tears are just pouring out of her, and she looks at me. “I love you,” she says. “Like love, love you. Like my world would shatter without you.” Her breath hitches while she tries to keep her composure. “I knew I liked you. I knew, but tonight, seeing Scott …” She takes her hand and wipes away the tears. “The only thing that I could think about was you not finding out what a horrible person I was. Hoping that even with all this, you could somehow …” She puts her hands on her stomach.

“Are you done?” I ask her, not wanting to cut her off but not wanting another minute to go on where she thinks I’m judging her. “I want you to know before anything and above everything, I will never judge you.” Her eyes open a bit more. “I love you.”

“What?” she whispers almost as if she doesn’t believe it. “Even after …?”