The silence in that rented apartment was deafening. I sat on the edge of the bed, knees pulled to my chest, staring at my phone like it might magically light up with Damien’s name. The screen stayed dark. No calls and no texts. I had left him another voicemail, my voice cracking as I whispered how sorry I was, how stupid I felt, how much I needed him right now, but it went unanswered just like the others.
My thumb hovered over his contact again. I pressed call and it went straight to voicemail.
“Damien… please,” I whispered into the dead line before hanging up. My throat felt tight, like I was swallowing glass. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that. I was angry and stubborn and I thought this trip would prove I could handle my own life, but I’m scared. Please pick up, I need you
