Page 83 of Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love 3)
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Later that night, after a lot of arguing with myself, I called her. I half-expected it to go to voicemail—I wouldn’t want to talk to me if I were her—but she answered. That’s because she’s not a fucking six-foot-four chicken like you are.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.”
“I’m really sorry about today.”
Nothing.
“I feel bad about the way I left.”
Nothing.
Can you blame her? You’re not adding anything new to the conversation. You’re not offering her anything. Tell her what’s going on with you. And be honest, asshole.
“I…it’s been a rough night. Scotty had a seizure while I was at your place.”
She gasped. “Oh my God! Is he OK?”
“He’s fine.”
“A febrile seizure?”
“Yes.”
“Did he go to the ER?”
“Yes. My mom couldn’t reach me because my phone was in the car, and she didn’t have your number—which I feel horribly guilty about—but she called an ambulance. When I got to my car, I heard the message.”
“I’m so sorry, Levi. That can be scary.”
“It was. But he’s home sleeping now.”
“Good.”
Silence.
I opened my mouth.
Silence.
I closed my eyes.
Silence.
I clenched my fist.
“Well, I should go,” she said woodenly. “I’m very sorry to hear about the seizure, and thank you for calling.”
“Jillian, wait.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I felt so horrible when I left you tonight, and then this thing with Scotty happened and it made me question everything even more. I just…I need some time to think, OK? I already miss you, and I know I’ve probably fucked things up too much already, but would it be too much to ask for some time? I need to make sure my head is in the right place.”
“I don’t know, Levi. I want to say yes, but I don’t really get the sense that you’re ready to put your fears aside. It’s easier to put me aside. And I feel like you just want time to wallow in your guilt some more. Beat yourself up.”
God, she knew me so well. Too well.
She took my silence as confirmation she was right. “Goodbye, Levi.”
