I’ve been giving him his space, but maybe it’s down to me to reach out since it was me that crossed the line?
“You’re either exhausted, or you have a shit ton on your mind,” Bash observes.
“Is both an option?” I ask as I watch the hospital disappear behind us.
“Both is always an option.” When he sees I’m not going to reply, he speaks again. “I don’t know what’s bugging you, and it’s clear that you’re not in the mood to talk about it, and that’s fine. Just know that you’re my friend, which means I kinda love ya, so I’m always here for you.”
That brings forth my first genuine smile in days. “I kinda love ya, too. And thank you.”
Before I know it, Bash pulls up in front of my house, and with a kiss to his cheek, I jump out and enter my house.
Ollie must sense my mood because he doesn’t come up to me when I come in. He simply looks up from his bed and then lowers his head back down.
“Nice to see you, too.”
I trudge over to the kitchen, hoping that a good cup of herbal tea will put me in a good enough headspace that I can at least get a decent night’s sleep. One more night shift. One more and then I can get a minimum of twenty hours of sleep and waste my day away doing fuck all.
I manage to get as far as making the tea before I have to stop, my current situation with Finn slamming into me yet again.
I leave the cup on the countertop and turn so I can lean against it. I close my eyes and remember what I said.
Wouldn’t you want to fix it if you could?
“Fix it,” I’d said. I never wanted to fix Finn. There’s nothing wrong with Finn.
My phone is in my hands before I can even think about it. Surely just one message to check on him can’t hurt? I start to type, remaining stubborn enough that I can’t talk myself out of it.
I hope you’re okay. Maybe we can talk soon?
As soon as I press send, a message from him pops up.
Dumbass
I hope you got home safely and I hope you’re okay.
Relief slams into my chest. Relief that he’s okay enough to message, but also relief that he’s checking up on me, meaning that he can’t completely hate me.
Gray bubbles fill the bottom corner of our chat.
Dumbass
I’m okay.
Short and blunt, but so much better than nothing.
Me too.
I press send and hop into bed with a chest that, while still being heavy, is so much lighter than it was before. On my day off, I’ll fix this. He gets one more day of space before I kick his door down and mow him over with an apology. Because I can no longer say I hate Finn. I can no longer say that I hope he takes a tumble down the stairs. Now, while I can still say he’s the bane of my existence, I’m not entirely sure what else I can say I feel.
* * *
I stare at the draft email on my laptop—the attachment that is making me want to throw up and the email address in the top corner.
From:[email protected]
ATTACHED: TIME SAVES NO ONE—CHAPTERS 1—3 BY OAKLEIGH MICHAELS
