Fallon
I shouldn’t have called him.
The second I heard his voice — low and rough, like I’d woken him or maybe just caught him off guard — I knew it was a mistake.
But I couldn’t help it.
The house was too quiet. The walls were too big. And the distance between us was starting to feel impossible.
I just… wanted to hear your voice.
God, I hated myself for saying it.
But the worst part?
I meant it.
When the call ended, the house felt even emptier than before.
I stood there for a long time, my phone still warm in my hand, listening to the echo of his last words.
Fallon. Don’t hang up.
I should’ve stayed on the line. Should’ve told him the truth — that I missed him, that this house didn’t feel like home when he wasn’t here, that I didn’t know how to keep pretending this wasn’t getti
