Sunflowers.
Her favorite.
The first time she mentioned them, we were playing twenty questions in my truck, and she had saidhow they always face the light, even when it rains.
So now, I plant them because I don’t know what the fuck else to do.
My knuckles sting where last night’s cuts reopened. I press them into the dirt anyway, as if I can bury the pain under it.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket, breaking the quiet.
I reach into my pocket and pull it out, seeing her name flash across my screen.
For a minuscule second, I consider letting it ring out, about protecting what’s left of me.
But I can’t. I never could when it comes to her.
I swipe to answer, bringing it to my ear. “Hey.”
There’s a pause on the other end, soft static, and faint sounds of the city traffic and distant laughter.
“Hey.”
“You still out here?”
She exhales, and it sounds like she’s been holding her breath for days. “No, I’m back in LA.”
Shit.
I sink down on the edge of the old wooden step, dirt smeared across my palms. “Baby, please be safe.”
“I-I am safe,” she says quickly, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Reed.”
I close my eyes, jaw clenched.
“You don’t have to be sorry, baby,” I say softly.
She falls silent for a long moment, then I hear her sniffle. “I-I miss you so much.”
My throat tightens at the stutter in her voice. I stare at the half-dug row of dirt as if it might give me the words I can’t find. “I miss you more, sunshine, more I can put into words.”
“I know you’re mad at me?—”
“Baby, why would I be mad?” I say softly. “I’m just worried. That’s all I ever am when it comes to you.”
She becomes quiet again, and I can hear her swallow through the line. “I don’t deserve that.”
“You deserve everything and more, baby.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, the kind that sounds more like a sob. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”
“Not sure anyone’s ever said that to me before,” I murmur, glancing at the sunflower seed packets beside me. “But you deserve it.”
I hear the shuffle of her footsteps and a door closing, the faint sound of her sniffling. “I just needed to call. I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have. I just, fuck, Reed, I need you.”
Those three words hit me straight in the gut.
