The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, Enzo’s words echoing in the sudden silence. Alex was broken—because I’d pushed her away to protect myself. Because I’d been so focused on my own fears that I’d forgotten she might have her own.
“What the hell was that about?” Dom asked quietly.
“Alex,” my voice came out rough. “She’s... apparently she’s had a... mental breakdown.”
“And Enzo thinks it’s your fault.”
“Enzo’s probably right,” I stood up abruptly, the camp chair scraping against the ground. “I need to call her. I need to—fuck, Dom, what if I’ve completely screwed this up?”
“Hey,” Dom was on his feet too, steadying me with a hand on my shoulder. “Breathe. You can fix this.”
“Can I? I’ve been pulling away for days, making her think I don’t want to talk to her, while she’s been—” I stopped, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes. “Shit. She probably thinks I’m done with her.”
“Then you call her and tell her the truth. All of it. Everything we just talked about.”
I looked at my phone, then at the dying fire, then at my brother who was watching me with the same steady confidence I used to have in myself.
“What if it’s too late?”
“Only one way to find out.”
The mountain air felt thin in my lungs as I pulled up Alex’s number—her name on the screen, the profile picture from our hike where she looked happy and relaxed and completely unaware that I was already falling for her.
“You’ve got this,” Dom nodded once. “And if you don’t, we’ll figure out Plan B.”
I hit call and listened to it ring, my heart hammering against my ribs as I waited to find out whether I’d already lost the best thing that had happened to me since I’d learned to fly.
It rang four times. Five. I expected it to go to voicemail—figured she might be asleep, or worse, that she’d see my name and decide she didn’t want to talk.
“Finn?” Her voice was cautious when she picked up, surprised. Alert in a way that meant she clearly hadn’t been sleeping.
“Hey.” Relief washed over me. “Sorry for calling so late. I know it’s—”
“It’s fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I was up anyway. Working on some stuff for tomorrow.”
Working. At midnight. That alone told me Enzo hadn’t been exaggerating.
“Alex,” I stepped away from the fire, lowering my voice even though Dom was giving me privacy by poking at the embers. “It’s not fine. Enzo called and yelled at me because you are very much not fine.”
Silence. Long enough that I checked to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.
“Enzo has a big mouth,” her voice sounded thin—tired in a way that went deeper than just staying up late.
“He’s worried about you. Said you had a breakdown at work.”
Another pause. Then: “It wasn’t a breakdown. It was a... strategic disagreement with office equipment. The printer and I had a misunderstanding, and it forgot who was in charge.”
“Alex…” I rubbed my forehead, trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I pulled away. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t want to talk to you, and I’m sorry it got to the point where your brother had to call and tear me a new one.”
The silence stretched longer this time. When she spoke again, her voice was smaller. Rougher.
“It’s not—” She stopped. “It’s not fine.”
“No,” I whispered. “It’s not.”
That seemed to break something in her. I heard her take a shaky breath and then another.
