Page 157 of The Wright Man

We hung up, and I dropped my phone beside me on the bed, flopping backward across the mattress.

Hands over my face. Breathing hard.

Like I'd just survived a fire and wasn't sure I'd come out whole.

I could still feel her kiss. Still hear her cry.

And all I could do was lie there, praying to a God I wasn't sure still listened that I hadn't just lost the only woman I've ever loved... for good.

I saw her again the moment I closed my eyes.

Not the Angel I grew up with. Not the bright-eyed girl peeling green porch paint beside me, or the woman glowing with firelight at Sister Sundays, laughing with her sisters and talking shit like it was her superpower.

No, I saw the version of her I'd made—kissed dumb and breathless, wide-eyed and shaken, standing in my arms like she was afraid of herself.

That was the image I couldn't shake. The moment before she ran.

And then, as if my thoughts summoned her, my phone lit up.

Angel.

Her name hit me like a punch to the chest.

I answered so fast I nearly cracked the screen.

"Angel, are you o—"

"Maleek..."

Just my name. Nothing else.

But the sound of her voice made my blood run cold.

She sounded devastated.

I shot upright, heart hammering like it was trying to beat its way out of my chest.

"Angel..." I breathed, gripping the phone like it was the only thing tethering me to the ground.

She was sobbing. Hiccuping. Hyperventilating. The kind of crying that came from the gut. The kind of crying that didn't care if it was heard.

I couldn't tell if it was wind or panic in the background, but it sounded like she was outside. Maybe pulled over on the side of the highway. Maybe not even fully stopped.

I sat up straighter. "Baby, where are you? Are you hurt? Talk to me."

She didn't answer that. Not yet.

"Maleek..." Her voice cracked again, and I felt something in me break clean in half.

"I need you."

That was it. That was all she said. But it was enough.

I didn't ask questions. I didn't press her. I just said the only thing I knew to say in that moment.

"I'm coming."

I was already grabbing my keys, my phone pressed tight between my shoulder and my ear as I yanked on the first pair of shoes I could find.