Page 120 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

I care that he’s bleeding over it.

I know how to handle pissed off.

I’ve fucked to rage.

I’m used to the taste of it.

Fists.

Screams.

Storm-outs.

Name-calling.

But I can’t handle hurt.

Not when it’s him.

Not when he’s looking at me

like his heart has two black eyes

and no pulse.

“It was on your nightstand, Allison,” he says low. “Just sittin’ there. I didn’t—fuck. I wasn’t goin’ through your shit. I didn’t mean to⁠—”

He looks away.

Tries to let out a steady breath.

Then he squints up at me.

“This the guy you fucked?”

My throat locks,

but the rest of me goes numb⁠—

the only survival instinct it knows.

“Yeah.”

He nods once.

Looks away.

“Aight.”

Then he’s rising from the bed,

setting the note back on the nightstand.

Nicely. How he found it.

He scratches his brow with his thumb.

“I’m gonna head out.”