Rowan: Please just let me know if you got home okay…
Rowan: Millie, seriously. I’m starting to worry here.
Rowan: Beau the dumbass says he dropped you at your door with no issues.
Rowan: Can you text me back just to let me know you’re okay? I don’t wanna be that guy that just randomly shows up, but I will because I’m that worried.
Rowan: I would hate to piss you off even more.
Just as I go to respond, another text comes through.
Rowan: Millie, please. Just tell me you’re okay and I promise I’ll leave you alone.
I never meant to make him worry. I completely forgot to turn my phone back on after everything that happened last night.
Me: I’m okay.
His reply is instant.
Rowan: Oh, thank fuck. I was really about to end up on your doorstep and beg for forgiveness, which I might still, you know why?
My smile is small but definitely there.
Me: Why?
Rowan: because I’ve just recently found out how much it sucks to have Millie St. James mad at me.
Rowan: like super super sucks and I’m so damn sorry.
My lip wobbles and my eyes water. I didn’t know how much I really needed to hear that from him until this moment.
Me: It’s okay and I’m sorry for running off. I should have stayed and talked it out.
I feel so out of my element with him. I know we’re just friends, but I can’t help but feel relief that he cares enough to apologize.
Rowan: Can I call you?
I nibble my lip for a split second, contemplating his request before quickly giving in and responding.
Me: Yes.
It’s not a millisecond later when my phone is buzzing in my hand. A picture I secretly took of him at the hockey game he took me to lights up the screen. His gorgeous profile, staring intently at the ice in front of us. His love for the game shines through the picture. As soon as I snapped it, I knew it was going to be one of my favorite pictures.
“Hello?” I don’t know why I’m nervous all of a sudden. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel as sure-footed with him as I did before. Which is saying a lot because before I felt like a baby taking her first steps.
“Hey, Daredevil.” The relief I hear in his voice is palpable.
“Hey—” I don’t know what to say, and that makes me sad because I’ve never felt that way with him before.
He blows out a heavy breath before saying, “I’m sorry. Truly. I overreacted and caused a scene, which I know you hate because you don’t want to be the center of attention. I just— Millie—” Now his words seem to be stuck. “I just don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
I close my eyes. The wordfriendsends a sharp pang of regret and sorrow through my heart. But I know it’s for the best.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. It was just kind of a trigger for me, you know? For my entire life people have told me what I can and can’t do. I know you were just looking out for me and I appreciate that, but I don’t need you to.”
This conversation is harder than I thought it would be. I find myself choking up, frustrated with myself and with him, but I know it’s a conversation we need to have.
“I know that now. And I promise to try to never do it again, but I can’t say I’ll be successful every time. Daredevil, I need you to know that if I ever cross the line again, I’m only doing it with the best intentions at heart.” His voice deepens and that sends a delicious but unwanted wave of warmth through my core. “I care about you.”
