Page 64 of The Wright Man

But some part of me already knew better. Things were already changing.

* * *

Angelica

Now

I don't know how long I lay there.

The dress was wrinkled and twisted around my waist, my lashes were halfway down my face, and my makeup had long since surrendered to tears. My throat was raw. My skin felt tight with dried tears. But I didn't move.

Didn't want to.

Because if I stood up, I might shatter.

I picked up my phone. Opened the thread with

Maleek

Typed:

"You were right."

Deleted it.

Typed:

"I'm so tired, Maleek."

Backspaced.

Typed:

"I need you."

Deleted that one so fast my thumb stung.

I let the silence stretch between us. Let the pain settle just long enough to remind me I was still breathing. Then I exhaled.

Typed three words.

Made it home.

I hit send.

Locked the phone. Let it drop beside me on the bed.

I didn't expect a reply. It was late. He had his own shit to deal with. His own life to rebuild.

But before sleep pulled me under, my phone buzzed.

I didn't unlock it—just glanced at the preview glowing soft against my pillow:

Maleek :

That was it. Nothing else. Just that little black heart.

And somehow, it was enough.