30
HALEY
Both Wyatt and Garrett had reached out to me within days of the s**t hitting the fan to offer apologies with words I’d heard dozens of times. Their promises meant jack s**t, same as my parents’ had over the years.
My anger, while protective, exhausted me, and I struggled to stay afloat from the sea of depression wanting to rise up and swallow me whole.
I craved them both to the point I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep.
But my goddamn stubbornness had kept me from responding even though my heart urged me to answer when Garrett had called.
In his voicemail, he’d asked for a second chance, wanting to be a better friend.
Those familiar excuses rolled off my back like water, but it was the rest of his message that had choked me up. The memories of our friendship and hearing his voic
