Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 152064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
“I’m terrified of losing you,” he admits.
“Same,” I whisper. “I just need you to keep being honest with me, even when it’s hard. Especially then.”
“I know. I’m working on getting better at it. I’m sorry I’ve made things so difficult for us.”
“You’re trying and that’s what matters.” I want to be able to tell him how I really feel about him, but I need it to be because we’re in a good place and not desperate to connect.
We climb into bed and he tucks me against him. I want the physical closeness to be enough, but the emotional distance is an uncrossable bridge, and I don’t know how to fix it.
I wake alone the next morning. Phillip had an early flight, so it shouldn’t be a surprise, but I sort of hoped he would wake me up and say goodbye.
I roll over, my chest already tight with his absence. I rub it, hoping to ease the ache, then glance at the nightstand. Sitting next to my phone is a flower made out of pipe cleaner and a note.
Tally,
I miss you already.
I’ll message you when I’m on the ground and settled in the hotel.
Xo
Yours,
Phillip
I run my fingers over the lines. I want him to write the words I feel in my heart. I leave the warmth of his bed and get dressed. The flower and note are tucked in my bag, as well as the hoodie that smells like him from the front hall. I pour myself a mug of coffee—he brewed me a fresh pot before he left—and take the subway back to campus. I get in half an hour of study time, so at least it’s not time wasted.
I meet Arya and Charles at the theater for our first dress rehearsal slot. It does not go seamlessly. “I’m sorry I’m so off. This is all me.” I kept flubbing the routine, and every screw up feels insurmountable. We only made it through once without any issues, but even then, it still wasn’t perfect.
“It’s okay. We have two more rehearsal sessions on stage to get it all down. You’re under a lot of pressure, Tally. We will get it right and everything will be fine,” Arya assures me.
“You’re right. We have time. We know this routine.” I’m so on edge, struggling to keep it together.
I drop them off at their apartments, but have to circle back to the studio because I forgot to leave the key in the lockbox for my classmates. Normally I’m not this scattered. Once I’m home, I settle in to study for my written exams. My marks aren’t quite as strong as I would like, so again, the pressure is on. The swirling anxiety over how Phillip and I left things makes it tough to focus.
I drink chamomile tea and do a calming meditation, but I’m so wiped out from the stress of it all that I fall asleep and don’t wake until midnight.
The apartment is dark and quiet. My door is open enough for Parsnip to come and go as he pleases. He’s currently lying on my Phillip pillow, paw over his eyes.
I reach for my phone and see that I missed three video calls and several messages from Phillip while I slept.
Flip
Landed. I’ll message when I’m settled in the hotel.
Had to get on the ice basically right away. Sorry it’s been a bit. How are you? Did you get the flower?
Everything okay? Message when you get this.
Cammie told me you were passed out hard with a textbook on your chest. I’ll try to message before your exam tomorrow. I sent over some East Side’s in case you need study fuel. Heading to bed because we’re on the ice early tomorrow.
The missed opportunity feels like an omen that sends me back into a worry spiral. Little things feel huge. Once I’m calm enough, I heat up some of the food he had delivered while reviewing notes. It’s not exceptionally productive since I’m still drowsy from my four-hour nap. After my exceptionally late dinner, I try to go back to sleep, but I’m wide awake. Staring at the ceiling won’t help, so I study until three in the morning, then force myself to close my eyes. My exam is at eight thirty, and I can’t risk conking out in the middle of it because I pulled an all-nighter. Besides, I have dance practice in the afternoon and more studying in the evening for exam number two. I set my alarm for seven thirty, and toss and turn for a while. The last time I look at the clock, it’s just after five.
“Talls?” Fee shakes on my shoulder. “You have to wake up! Your exam is in less than half an hour.”
I sit up in a rush. “What? I set my alarm for seven-thirty.” The clock on my nightstand doesn’t lie, though. It’s after eight.