My chest caves inward.
I hear myself whimper.
A small, broken noise
I try to swallow
but can’t.
The wine turns sour in my throat.
I press a hand to my mouth.
“And you choose now?”
A tear slips down my cheek.
It’s hot.
Sharp.
Shameful.
I gasp around a sob that barely makes it out.
The words that follow?—
“You didn’t forget me.”
—stab straight through my ribs.
I curl into myself, hand gripping my hair, knees drawn tight to my chest like I’m trying to protect something inside me he already stole.
The phone shakes in my hand.
I’m shaking too.
“Don’t lie again.”
A sob breaks free.
I clamp a hand over my mouth to muffle it.
My whole body trembles?—
with wine,
with fear,
with memory,
with want I do not have the strength to deny.
I’m falling apart so fast I can’t keep up with the pieces.
“You still love me.”
The words land in the middle of my chest like a hammer.
