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14

My eyes squinted.

My chest pounded.

“Please,” I begged. “Just say the words, and I’ll stay home tonight.”

I clung my hand around the blanket, the other twisting the edge of the fluffy pillow. “Dylan …” I said so softly.

There was movement on the bed.

The air behind me suddenly turned to ice.

“Dylan, no.”

He couldn’t leave.

At least not without saying something.

But I heard his feet on the floor, and I knew that was exactly what he was doing.

“Please, Dylan. Don’t go yet.”

My body began to tense into a ball.

“Come back,” I called.

The bedroom door opened.

Why did I tell him?

Why was I so honest?

Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut?

There was no reason I’d needed to tell him what I was doing with Smith.

I could have kept it in.

Lied.

I wasn’t sure it would have even mattered.

“Dylan—” I cried out, cutting myself off when the bedroom door closed behind him.

He was gone.

He hadn’t told me not to go.

He wouldn’t.

I hated that more than anything.

I hated this feeling.

I hated what we had b
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