Page 121 of Abyss

Pulling up her contact, I dial her number again, clingingto the sliver of hope that perhaps this time she’ll answer. It rings once before sending me to voicemail, leaving me with nothing but the echo of her voice on the other side. I resist the urge to leave her another message, knowing that my countless others have likely been left unheard.

My fingers fly over the keys with a will of their own, the words pouring out before I even have a chance to fully comprehend what I’m even typing.

Me

Kav, please call me. We need to talk. There are things you don’t know . . . things you should know. Don’t do this without hearing me out.

I send her another message, the words spilling out in a torrent of emotion—words that should have been said face to face, where she could have looked into my eyes and seen the depth of my feelings for her.

Me

I do fucking love you, baby. Please, just give me a chance to tell you in person.

Except both texts turn a different color, like she hasn’t received them.

Did she block me?

My frustration boils over, my fist slamming against my steering wheel, eliciting a short honk from my car. Clenching my hair inside my palm, I curse under my breath.

Fucking hell, she blocked me!

Not only did she choose to break things off with a text, but she shut down all communication.

But why? Where did that come from? Is it because we still hadn’t discussed our future with only a week left?

Yes, it was fucking risky of me to have kept everythingfrom her, to not have confided in her about my plan, but fuck, I wanted to surprise her!

And as far as telling her I loved her? Hadn’t I shown it with every fucking action?

Hadn’t I torn my goddamn chest open and shown her my bleeding heart? Hadn’t I bared my soul with every gentle caress and every all-consuming kiss, showing exactly how much she meant to me? Had she not heard any of my whispered confessions, felt any of my raw desire?

What were those, if not admissions of love?

I’ve never said those words to anyone but Madison—not even to my parents or Jett—and even then, they’re rarely said. I grew up in a family that never exchanged them freely, so they’ve always felt foreign and forced on my lips . . . like they were a formality for something that should have been shown instead.

But, fuck, Kavi didn’t know that.

She gave them to me without a second thought, with every ounce of sincerity, and expected to have them returned. She deserved to have them returned.

But clearly, I’m too late.

An unsettling feeling tickles the back of my mind like an itch I can’t quite scratch. Something I just read in her text but shouldn’t have. Something that has me pulling up her message again, searching for the exact words.

Per your words, the terms were clear. This thing between us was never meant to be more than a fling . . .

Per my words?

What words?

My brain races, trying to recollect the words she claims I said. When did I ever—

And then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

Holy shit!

A roll of nausea dances inside my gut as my mind finds themissing puzzle piece that explains Kavi’s strange behavior ever since the night Maddy came over.

She fucking heard me talking to Maddy that night. She heard me, but clearly, she didn’t hear everything.

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