Page 592 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

I turn my smile to the city.

“Come my birthday in November, the label will finally be back where it belongs too.”

“Mmhmm…” she hums. “And how does Six-Point-Five fit into all this?”

My smile holds,

remembering the kiss in the hallway,

the undone look on his face.

I shrug, then glance down at my phone,

staring at the last text Andrew sent.

On the day of the transplant,

Maria’s surgery lasted ten hours.

Andrew and I slept through most of it, and when we woke up, the entire Harding family had taken over the room, waiting until the surgeon came out and said the transplant was successful—liver was in, blood flow looked good, and Maria was stable. The waiting room erupted into cheers and crying and cheek kisses.

Except Andrew.

He refused to let himself celebrate, stayed numb, passive the rest of the night. Like good news only meant bad news wasn’t too far away.

While they waited for Maria to wake in ICU, I grabbed dinner from La Bella’s for the whole family, ate with them, then left to shower, change, give them alone time.

Andrew stayed back at the hospital.

That was two days ago.

That was the last time I saw him.

Today 12:13 AM

Andrew

She’s eating peanut MMs for breakfast.

She’s good.

And that was the last text he sent me.

Haven’t talked to him since.

Still, it let me breathe a little easier through the weekend, and I kept telling myself no news is good news.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“I like what we are, and where we are.

“I don’t wanna hold it too tight…”

My hand closes around the phone.

“I don’t wanna lose it.”

What I don’t say: It terrifies me how completely he has me⁠—