Seven days of silence stretched between them like an abyss.
She hadn't intended to wait this long. Two days, she'd told herself. Three at most. Just enough time for him to process what she'd shared, to cool down and think rationally. People got scared. They retreated. They panicked.
But they came back. That's what she kept telling herself.
Every morning, Collins would stare at her phone, his contact information glowing on the screen, her thumb hovering uncertainly. The mantra played in her head: Connor would realize she never cheated. He would remember how much they meant to each other. He would call.
Each notification made her heart leap. Each passing silent hour made something inside her fracture.
She left messages. Simple. Direct. "Please call me," she said in her lone voicemail, voice steady despite everything.
