But it matters. Of course it matters.
It mattered when we whispered vows like secrets. It mattered when we slid rings onto fingers like promises we weren’t allowed to show. It mattered when we promised each other always, even though our lives were already trying to pull us apart.
And we forgot.
I can’t stop staring at the calendar, like if I stare long enough, I’ll see where we lost it. Where it slipped.
My phone buzzes. The vibration startles me so hard I almost drop it. I blink, confused for half a second, then look down. It’s a message from Rafe.
Rafe: I think I fucked up.
Rafe: Like REALLY fucked up.
My heart stutters, then launches into my throat.
Of course. Of course he realized too.
My fingers move fast.
Me: What happened?
I play it safe, just in case. Typing dots appear. Disappear. Come back. My stomach clenches.
Rafe: What day did we miss?
I close my eyes and laugh, short and breathless. Like my body doesn’t know what else to do with the feeling.
Me: Yeah.
There’s a beat. Like he’s staring at his own calendar the way I am. Like he’s sitting somewhere in another beige room doing the same math.
Rafe: We’re terrible.
I press my lips together.
Me: We’re busy.
Rafe: Same thing.
That lands harder than it should, because it’s true. Busy is what people call it when they don’t want to saywe’re drowning.
I stare at the screen. My thumb hovers over the keyboard. I don’t want to make this worse. I don’t want to spiral. So I type the first thing that comes to me.
Me: I don’t care that we forgot.
He answers immediately.
Rafe: I do.
And yeah. So do I. The truth makes my throat sting like I swallowed something sharp. I don’t type right away. My phone feels too heavy.
Rafe: We should fix it.
My chest warms, sudden and bright, like someone cracked a window open.
Me: How?
Rafe: I don’t know yet.
