Page 164 of The Sweetest Return

I heard her breathe.

“Hi.”

One word loosened my chest so quickly it almost irritated me.

I had plenty I wanted to ask. Where had she been? Why did she leave like that? Did she regret what happened between us?

I didn't start with any of it.

“You okay?”

“I am.” A pause. “Mostly.”

Mostly was on the phone.

I could work with mostly.

“Talk to me.”

She went quiet, and I made myself let her.

“I saw the posts Sunday morning,” she said. “Camille texted. I opened Instagram while you were asleep and saw us at the game, outside The Nocturne, all of it. People were pulling Aubrey into it and making timelines and deciding what I was to you before we'd even discussed it.” Her voice tightened. “I panicked.”

“I figured.”

“That doesn't make how I handled it okay.”

“No.”

I kept the hurt in my voice because removing it would have been another kind of lie.

“I should have woken you,” she said. “Or left a note. Answered when you called. Something. We said we were taking our time, and the first time everything got loud, I ran before you had a chance to show me what doing this differently looked like.”

That reached me.

“It wasn't because I regretted you.”

Everything in me stilled.

“Say that again.”

“I did not regret you, Dre.”

The breath left me rough.

“Okay.”

“I woke up happy. Scared, but happy. You were asleep, and I wanted to stay.”

I closed my eyes.

“Then I saw the pictures and felt twenty-two again. Like I was trying to figure out how to love you without getting swallowed by everything around you.”

“I don't want you swallowed.”

“I know.”

“I don't want you reduced to me either.”