But knowing her... that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.
And taking in her words... I realized just how badly I’d hurt her.
And that meant I had my work cut out for me.
Not working on me... ‘cause she was right. She’d been right all those years ago.
I needed to make good memories with her.
But I had been right in leaving.
I just should have waited a year and taken her with me.
But if she thought I was going to leave now, she was sorely mistaken.
I went to the corner where the chair was and bent, tagged the black bag I kept there, the one I knew she knew about and had chosen to leave there.
I smirked as I opened it, grabbed a pair of boxers, and pulled them on.
Then I went back to her front door and flipped the locks.
I was lying in her bed waiting for her to come out of the bathroom when her phone pinged.
I looked at the door, then decided to say fuck it.
I opened her bag, pulled out her phone, and checked it.
There was a text from Malinda.
Malinda – God, that was awful. Are you home, okay?
Me – Yeah. Just now. Explain tomorrow what happened.
Malinda – What?
Malinda calling.
I let it roll to voicemail.
Malinda – You're okay, though, right?
Me – Yeah.
Malinda – Okay, girl. Talk to you tomorrow.
I silenced her phone, then grabbed the charger and plugged it in.
I wasn’t going to worry about my own phone.
Fucker could die for all I cared.
Besides, they all knew where I was.
There was no doubt about it.
Just then, the bathroom door opened, and she walked out of it.
I stared at her.
