You are a piece of shit.
You deserve to have a hole in your sock every day the rest of your life.
Have you ever heard of shutting the fuck up?
“God, you have changed. My Callum would’ve respected me, would’ve listened, would’ve tried to be empathetic instead of crass. He would never have said what you did that summer, or if you had, you would’ve apologized and made it right. Clearly you haven’t grown up since then. Football and partying got to you.” She kept her head down, her gait fast but not fast enough to avoid me.
She was upset, and I had to make sure she got back. Plus, I wanted to know if her building was safe. She tried jogging but stopped once I caught up with her. We walked in silence for fourteen minutes before approaching a tall sleek building. She stood outside and held out her hand. “Bag.”
“I want to walk you to your door.”
She rolled her eyes, accepting defeat as she marched toward the elevator. You knew her pain was bad for her to willingly take the elevator—she hated them. When we were bored once, we looked at all the elevator deaths just to try and prove they were hard to come by, but it had the opposite effect. It made her more nervous.
She looked really good. Now that we had good lighting, I eyed her up and down, admiring the strength she had in her legs. She had always been cute, but she’d grown into her looks. The same flicker of interest took root in my gut as I wondered how her thighs were feel if I touched them.
It was uncomfortable to be attracted to her while knowing she hated my guts. Did not recommend this for anyone.
I followed her into the small elevator, watching as she pressed the fifth floor. Being this close to her, her shampoo was the same as it was in high school: lilac. The doors shut, and the elevator made a weird, scraping sound.
My hand went out—to what? I wasn’t sure. I dropped it to my side. That sound was weird, and Ivy had to be nervous. “Hey, I’m sure it’s okay.”
“Right.”
The sound repeated, and the elevator just stopped moving. Somewhere between the first and fifth floors, the elevator car stilled, the doors remaining locked. A roar formed in my ears, my adrenaline spiking in fight or flight.
Operator. Use the emergency phone. “Ivy, sit in the corner, alright?”
“F-fact; lying on your back is the safest way to survive an elevator crash. The butt is a thick muscle and can help lessen the impact.”
“Hon, we aren’t going to crash.” I grabbed the phone, dispatch immediately picking up. “Hi, our elevator is stuck.”
“What’s your location?”
I rattled off the address and thanked them as they informed us a team was on the way. We should stay put and remain calm.
“What does your brain remember from our research?” I asked, lying on the floor next to her. It was probably disgusting, but I knew she’d need it.
“Thirty minutes is the average time of waiting. One man was stuck for forty hours though. Callum, what if we’re here for two days?”
“We won’t be.” I grabbed her hand and intertwined our fingers. “They’re coming now, I promise.”
She took a shaky breath, her body shuddering.
“I’m sorry,” I said, letting the words fall out even though it hurt and was difficult as hell.
“You didn’t break the elevator, unless your ego is too large and did it.”
“Oh, you have jokes.” I laughed, so happy to hear her humor. “I didn’t mean for this. I meant… for everything. What you said…I think I do need to hash this out with you. I want you to call me names, say how badly I hurt you. I need to hear it all, so I can say sorry.”
She swallowed, a tear falling down her cheek as she kept her eyes closed. “Why now?”
I took my own difficult breath. “I don’t have a good answer. I think… I avoided it until I couldn’t.”
“So if I didn’t have this internship, you would never have done this.”
“Yes, if I’m being honest.” I squeezed her hand when she tried to let go. “Apologizing is hard for me, and I think I masked it?—”
“That’s not an excuse. Saying sorry to those you care about should be easy, but you were too proud to do it.”
