It takes less than two minutes for the three dots to appear.
Brian:Hey, no worries at all. I figured something came up. Hope you’re okay.
Of course he’s nice about it. That only makes the guilt twist harder.
Me:Thank you. Really. If you’re free this morning, can I buy you a coffee as a proper apology?
I hesitate before sending it. Not because I want it to be a date—it isn’t—but because it feels like the least I can offer. A gesture that says I’m not a terrible person even if my heart is a disaster zone.
His reply comes quickly.
Brian:Sure. I’m free. The Brew House at 10?
I blink at the screen.
The Brew House.
Of all places.
But maybe that’s better. Neutral. Familiar. Less pressure.
Me:10 works. See you there.
I drop back against the pillows, phone resting on my stomach.
Emma immediately texts again.
Emma:Did you apologize yet??
Me:Yes. We’re getting coffee at The Brew House at 10.
Emma:GOOD. And remember what I said— It’s just coffee. Not a marriage proposal.
Me:I know.
Emma:Also, like Ellie said, you’re HOT. So maybe brush your hair this time.
Ellie: She sure as hell is!
A laugh slips out of me before I can stop it.
Me:Shut up. I’ll text you guys after.
Emma:You better.
Ellie: Sweet
Emma: And Sarah? I’m proud of you.
That one hits a little deeper than I expect. My throat tightens.
Because being proud of myself has been hard lately. Everything inside me feels tangled. Messy. Pulled in a direction I keep pretending I shouldn’t want.
But today isn’t about that.
Today is about doing the right thing.
I drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom. My reflection looks slightly less horrid than last night, but only because sleep blurred the sharp edges. I splash cold water on my face until my skin tingles, then pull my hair into something presentable.
