“I’m sorry,” I blurt, and she trails off. My grip tightens on the phone. “I, umm…I’m sorry for not taking better care of you. For being selfish.” I swallow. “You weren’t in the right headspace emotionally and I should’ve been the one to stop things, to think clearly for both of us. That was on me, and I didn’t. I’m really sorry.”
There’s a long pause, long enough for me to wonder if this is how people feel right before they pass out. I’m also silently praying she doesn’t hate me the way I hate myself right now.
Finally, she scoffs. “We’ve got nothing to apologize for. I mean, I led you on, and we’re two adults who knew exactly what we were doing.” She exhales. “We had more than enough chances to stop. But instead, we went… like what, three rounds with…”
“Five,” I say before I can stop m
