Page 70 of Big & Bossy

Delete. Start again.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re mad. I know I don’t deserve an ounce of grace right now, but I swear, I did everything I fucking could to get to you as quickly as possible.”

Liar. You could have left earlier. You could have walked away from him.

Delete.

“I’m a piece of shit. I get it.”

Delete.

“Please, just talk to me. I know I don’t deserve it, but please, Mandy, I’ll take you screaming at me over silence.”

Send.

Keep going.

I leaned forward onto my desk, my mind racing. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do anything. Just don’t block me out. I can’t — I can’t handle another ten years.”

Send.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much and I know I’m screwing everything up. I know. I just… I wish I could tell you everything. I wish I could tell you how I’m doing all of this for you, how I can’t get a moment’s sleep because I’m spending every goddamn second trying to figure this out. I wish I could tell you that I’m worried things are bad again, that I have cause to believe you’re under threat by the same people who were so horrible that I had to hide. I wish I could tell you that I love you more than you will ever fucking know. I wish…”

My fingers dug into the wood, scratching the varnish and veins.

“I wish we’d have had what you imagined for us, back at the wedding. That I’d asked you to marry me when I wanted to, that we’d fucked off into the national park with just the people you wanted and married you in that goddamn all-black tux and you in whatever color you wanted, that we’d rented a chateau, that we’d had a bonfire, that we’d celebrated you and me the way you imagined it.”

Even without her on the other end, I could feel it all slipping through my fingers. Why did this have to hurt so much?

“And I wish we’d had two dogs and cat and kids and a house full of a shit ton of pinball machines, wish we spent Christmases with your mom and New Years with my parents, wish you had a fucking garden full of dead plants that I could replace, wish we had a life that we wanted. If I had a time machine… shit, I’d make everything happen the way you wanted. I’d take away every second of suffering that I could and replant each one with happy memories and us.”

My nail chipped and splintered, and I hissed from the pain.

“But more than fucking anything, princess, I wish I could just tell you all of this. I wish I could lay everything out there for you. But I can’t, at least not yet. So… I’m sorry. And I love you. I love you more than I can ever put into words.”

My thumb hesitated over the send button, too many thoughts and emotions racing through my brain. I could do it. I could send it, clue her in, let her know.

But I couldn’t. She wouldn’t care about the risk to herself, and I knew that too well.

Delete.

Collapsing back into my chair, breakfast no longer sounded like a good idea despite the growling of my stomach. The thought of it made me feel sick, like I’d end up throwing up all over my desk and computers and ruining everything even more than I already had.

I stared at my phone, almost contemplating replaying the two voice notes I’d sent just to hear how positively desperate I sounded and cringe at myself, but for a brief second, almost so quickly I didn’t see it, the little typing bubble appeared from her end before disappearing again.

I shot her another text, too quick, too rash.

Me: Let me explain what happened last night. I’m sure you’ve already heard, but please.

The bubble reappeared for a moment before vanishing.

Me: I don’t want to do this over text. Let me come over. I can explain everything, princess. Just let me see you.

The bubble returned and stayed, and each passing second felt like an hour, like my racing heart was about to beat its way out of my chest and flop onto the desk.

Mandy: Are we still on for the networking event this morning?

I blinked at the screen, my mind caught between elation from a response and absolute horror that she was focusing entirely on that.

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