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I was scared of hurting her, of scaring her. Of making her retreat back into the shell she’d safely hidden inside for the last month.
But she came out of it on her own. She fought to keep her head above water, to not let what happened to her define her. But even her strength has boundaries.
And me fucking her against the wall of a gym locker room is not how she should be fucked for the first time after that. She needs gentle reassuring words. Slow strokes and sweet kisses.
I couldn’t give her that yesterday.
The sound of her phone vibrating against the wooden bedside table is enough to make me snap, and I carefully reach across to snatch it up. Turning the brightness down, I type in her passcode and unlock the phone.
Twenty-eight fucking messages.
Who’s bothering her this late at night?
My heart is in my throat as I click the messages open. Scanning the words, I let out a small, relieved laugh.
Fucking Oli.
Video after video, meme after meme. That’s all she does. They don’t even have actual conversations. It’s just Oli blowing her up with this shit.
I scroll, chuckling to myself at the things Oli finds amusing. It takes me all of a second to remember this is Eve’s phone and it’s an insane invasion of privacy for me to be looking through it, so I click out of Oli’s messages.
I almost lock the phone, but three words catch my eye.
Roman’s Old Phone.
Then I read the timestamp.
Yesterday.
My stomach drops to the floor. What the fuck is this? My gaze slides to her, finding her still soundly asleep.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I should lock her phone and replace it on the nightstand. I should pretend like I didn’t see any of it.
But I don’t do that.
With a shaky thumb, I click the message thread, and my throat immediately tightens, making it hard to breathe.
Message after message after message. I can barely read the tiny letters through my blurry vision. The phone shakes in my hand as I focus on the most recent text.
Eve:
You kissed me for the first time in weeks today. You called me your girlfriend. I’ve never been someone’s girlfriend before. I’m happy I’m yours.
Roman’s Old Phone:
This number is no longer in service.
I blink rapidly as I read it again. She sent this yesterday. She texted me—no, not me. Old me. My old number. She…
I read the next message.
Eve:
Today we finished organizing your room. You helped me the entire time and didn’t complain. I know it’s not a big deal, but it meant the world to me. I didn’t feel alone.
Roman’s Old Phone:
This number is no longer in service.
