She scrolled up.
Read her own text again.
I love you.
Shit!
She groaned inwardly.
She hadn’t even realized she’d said it. It had just…slipped out. She’d been flustered and tired and trying to reassure him. Tryingto keep it simple. Familiar. She used to say it all the time, back when they were kids playing house in a dorm room.
But that was ten years ago.
And now?
Now it was real. And she’d said it first.
Without thinking.
Without meaning to.
And he’d said it back.
Ali dropped the phone onto her lap and stared at the ceiling like maybe it would open up and swallow her whole.
“I’m an idiot,” she whispered.
Ashley stirred from across the room. “You’re not an idiot. You’re just in love.”
Ali looked over, wide-eyed. “You read my texts in your sleep?”
Ashley sat up slowly, her hair wild, one eye barely open. “No. But I know that look. That’s theDylan-just-broke-my-brain with-one-sentenceface.”
Ali groaned and buried her face in her hands.
Ashley smirked.
Ali (unsent):
Okay so I know I said “I love you” last night and I think I might have blacked out emotionally?? I didn’t even realize I said it until I woke up and saw your text. But I did mean it. I think. I mean—no, I do. God, this is already a disaster. I should not be allowed to text before coffee. Please don’t freak out.
Her thumb hovered over send.
She’d typed it. All of it. The truth, messy and earnest and terrifying.
But her chest clenched and her stomach flipped, and at the very last second—backspace.
She deleted the whole thing. Every word.
“Coward,” she muttered.
Ashley made a noise that might’ve been an agreement or just a yawn.
Ali sighed and stared down at the screen again, trying to will herself to be brave. To just text him back, like a normal human being in a healthy, grown-up relationship.
And that’s when it happened.
The typing bubble appeared.
