Page 161 of Make Me Mean It

Then there’s another quiet thud against the door, softer than mine, and I know without seeing him that Connor’s dropped his forehead against the other side.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”

His voice comes through muffled, but not nearly muffled enough.

My eyes squeeze shut.

Fuck him.

Fuck that fucking word.

My lash line burns, pressure building behind my eyes, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek because I’m not opening the door.

Then his voice comes again.

“I miss you.”

So quiet I almost convince myself I imagined it.

I pull my knees tighter against my chest and fold over them, burying my face there as something in me finally gives. A tear slips free, hot against my cheek, followed by another before I can scrub either of them away.

“Fuck,” I choke out, pressing my mouth against my knees to smother the sound trying to claw its way up my throat.

Because I miss him too.

My fingers curl into the fabric over my knees as I swallow down the sob threatening to break loose.

“I miss you,” I whisper into them, knowing he probably can’t hear me.

Maybe hoping he can’t.

The words break anyway.

“I fucking miss you.”