My memory drifts back to the glass vase on my acrylic desk in my office. The tulips inside are wilted, their stems drooping, petals browned at the edges. They resemble an apology that was never truly sincere. I clench my jaw, heat bubbling beneath my ribs.
Anger tends to sneak in, right beneath the sadness. And that’s what I’ve been feeling lately, sad. Despite having this “sunny demeanor,” as Catalina says, no one truly knows how I really feel.
Amelia keeps talking, giggling between words as I hear Maverick kissing her, laughing between kisses. I swipe the tear threatening to escape beneath my lower lash line. I murmur something supportive back because she deserves to gush.
She deserves to have this.
When the call ends, the silence is worse than before.
I grab my phone, my thumb hovering over the screen, my pulse pounding in my throat. I type quickly before I can overthink it.
Layla
Hey Reed, would Friday work for me to come by? I mean, it’s not like I can teleport there lol
I stare at my message, the cursor blinking as if daring me to take it back. My thumb hovers, hesitating, then I hit send.
My phone lands on the couch beside me, screen fading to black.
After sending the text, I stay busy doing the dishes that didn’t really need scrubbing, refolding clothes that were already folded, and then folding them again. Anything to keep my hands moving so my mind won’t spin.
Minutes drag on, and my phone remains silent. I try to tell myself not to care, that this is just business anyway—filming, content, the excuse I’m telling myself, but beneath that, my chest tightens with something that feels suspiciously likehope.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I snatch my phone before I can second-guess, sucking in a breath when I see his name glowing on my screen.
Reed
Friday works.
That’s it. Nothing more. But it’s enough to make me smile.
A sliver of light in the darkness.
“Why the fuck are you smiling?”
My head snaps up. Brian’s standing in the doorway, keys jangling in his hand, his brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, tucking the phone against my chest before slipping it into my pocket.
He scoffs, his lips curling into that smirk I’ve come to hate. “Don’t wait up. I’m hanging with Rebecca tonight, going to Downtown.”
I swallow hard, rise to my feet, and walk past him before he can see how much it affects me.
In my room, I grab my phone and open the group chat with my girls. Fingers flying before I can lose my nerve.
Layla
Change of plans. Leaving for Tennessee next Monday turned into leaving early bc i hate it here
Catalina
bitch, spill
Catalina
If Brian did something, tell me right now so I can fly to LA and set his shit on fire.
