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I cried in silence until my nose ran and my throat hurt. In the end, I was physically and mentally exhausted, so I curled up on the couch, using the blanket Calder had bought me as a cover. But sleep didn’t come. Of course it didn’t. Sleep was for people whose minds could rest. Mine kept swirling in circles, knocking into every memory, every life dream I’d had, every moment I wished I could rewind.

At midnight, I was still wide awake with my racing thoughts. I was never going to fall asleep without getting out some of what was in my head. Mom would answer if I called her again, but I didn’t want to burden her any more than I already had. So I decided to go to the place that had always brought me comfort: writing.

My journal was in the bedroom closet, and I wasn’t about to go in and get it with Calder in there. Instead, I dug out my work notebook and pen and sat cross-legged on the couch under the blanket.

For a few minutes, I stared down at a blank page, not sure what to write. But then I remembered what Mom had said—“one sentence at a time.” So I put the pen to paper, writing a letter I’d probably never deliver.

Dear Calder,

I’m sorry.

The words stared back at me. They seemed pathetic and tiny and not nearly enough for the enormity of the horrible things I’d done. I crossed them out and tried again.

I don’t know how to apologize for breaking something you trusted me to protect.

My throat tightened.

You didn’t deserve any of this. Not the lying. Not the disrespect. Not having to wonder what you did wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong, Calder. I need you to know that more than I need you to know anything else, even if you don’t believe another word I say.

A tear fell onto the page and blurred the word wrong.

I wiped it with my thumb, but it only smeared more.

You were a good boyfriend. The best boyfriend. You were gentle and kind. Safe and steady. You were more than I was worthy of.

I stopped writing and looked toward the bedroom door. No sound. No movement. I went back to writing.

I fell in love with you because being loved by you felt like exhaling after holding my breath for years.

Because you never needed to be the loudest person in the room to be the strongest one in it.

Because you listened.

Because you noticed things.

Because you remembered how I took my coffee after the first time we shared a cup.

Because when you kissed my forehead, it made me feel better than putting a Band-Aid on a wound when I was a little kid.

You were good in all the ways that counted. You showed up. You were patient. You loved me with all your heart, Calder. And that’s what makes what I’ve done so unforgivable.

I swallowed and kept going.

I’m so ashamed. Ashamed because I hurt you, but also ashamed because I’ve become someone I never thought I could be. Selfish. Dishonest. Reckless.

I drew in a shaky breath.

Maybe the worst part is that I don’t know how to fix this. I can never give you back the trust I stole or erase the images that must be in your head now.

You deserved a woman who protected your heart the way you protected mine. I wasn’t her.

I read that line twice, my lip trembling at the ugliness of it.

I don’t know what happens from here. I don’t know if there’s any coming back from this. But for what it’s worth, I did love you. I do love you. Maybe not in a way that is fair to you. But it was real, Calder. And I’m ashamed beyond words that I’m the one who ruined it.

I stared at the last sentence for a long time. Then I took a deep breath and turned the page.

For a minute I did nothing but sit with the pen in my hand. Writing to Calder had hurt. But writing to Rafe felt dangerous, and my heart began pounding before I even pressed the pen to the page.