Page 149 of What About Us

So, I hit Call, but after four rings, it goes to her voicemail.

Fuck.

I hang up and toss my phone on the coffee table, pull my hands down my face, and think back to that conversation just before she left.

To the past few days that she was here.

She looked so . . . lost. Sad. She says she’s worried that I’ll take another hit to the head and forget her, but there’s no way. We’ve been through too much together over the past three months for me to just forget everything. Could I forget moments? It’s possible. But I haven’t forgotten my family or my teammates.

There’s no way that I could simply lose her from my memory. She’s too damn important.

But I didn’t say that to her in the moment. I simply said it wouldn’t happen.

And she reminded me that it already has.

Twice.

And the look of pure sadness, utter devastation on her face sits heavy in my heart. I fucking hate that she had to leave when we were in the middle of such a huge conversation. I hate that she ran away.

Because that’s what she did.

My phone pings with a text, and I see that it’s Ivy.

Red: Sorry, I was in the shower!

I don’t type out a reply, I hit video call, and when she comes on the screen with wet hair and a clean face, my heart finally settles down.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“When are you coming back?” My voice is rough, and I sound needy as fuck, but I don’t care.

“I have to take care of some things tomorrow,” she says carefully. “But I’ll text you when I have the return flight booked.”

I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean? The flights were canceled today, so they should have rebooked you automatically on a flight tomorrow.”

She nods and nibbles her lip. “I know, but I need to take care of some things.”

“You said that.”

Calm down.

I take a deep breath.

“Just tell me if you’re not planning to come back, Ivy.”

She frowns and shakes her head. “I’m coming back. I told you I was. I just needed the extra day, that’s all. I want to talk to you in person. Xander, I’m coming back to Denver.”

I nod, believing her. She’s not lying to me. And fuck if it doesn’t feel good to look at her.

“Okay, Red.”

“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice softer.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.” Her smile is sad. “But we will be.”

We. Not I.