Page 128 of Power Play
He nods. “Still, you’ve got a mountain to climb. She’s not gonna just forgive you because you said sorry.”
“I know,” I say. “She hasn’t even listened to my voice notes.”
“You left her voice notes?”
“One every day for a week.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Alright, Shakespeare. What kind of stuff are we talking?”
“Nothing cheesy. Just real. Honest. Some of them were just me breathing into the phone, trying to find the words.”
“That’s weird.”
“Iamweird.”
He laughs, and it eases the knot in my chest a little.
Mia wanders over then, holding two drinks and eyeing us like she’s trying to read the room.
“Talking about Sophie?” she says, ever the bloodhound.
I nod. “Is it that obvious?”
“It’s tattooed on your face.”
I grimace.
She hands me one of the drinks. “From Jacko. He says it’s full of sympathy and brown sugar.”
“Thanks.”
Mia perches on the armrest of the booth. “Listen, I’m not gonna sugar-coat it. She’s not over it. She’s angry, and she’s hurt, and every time your name comes up, she gets this look in her eye like she’s remembering where she put the scissors.”
“Right,” I say, sipping the drink. “Very comforting.”
“But,” she says, holding up a finger. “She’s still talking about it. Which means she still cares. You just need to prove to her that she can trust you again.”
I nod slowly. “How?”
Mia shrugs. “Be consistent. Show up. Don’t push. Don’t try to make her forgive you before she’s ready. Just keep being honest. And patient. You don’t fix trust with one grand gesture. You fix it with one boring, small, steady moment at a time.”
I exhale. “That’s a lot harder than begging at her door.”
“Exactly,” she says. “Which is why it’ll mean more.”
Dylan leans back, folding his arms. “You got people in your corner, Murph. Don’t waste it.”
Ollie, who has been quietly listening to this entire exchange while inhaling chips, finally pipes up.
“Sorry, I was distracted by your emotional growth,” he says. “But can we also talk about how Jacko mademini sconesfor tonight?Mini. Just the tops. I think he’s gone full wizard.”
Jacko appears out of nowhere like a summoned baking demon and slaps a paper plate down on the table.
“They’re called ‘cloud caps.’ Eat with reverence.”
I stare at the plate.
“They look like tiny hats,” I say.
