I pull my phone from my pocket, about to call her, but stop when I see the screensaver of me kissing her cheek. We took it a week ago. One night, we were cuddled together on the couch. She said she didn’t have any pictures with me, and she wanted one. I pretended I didn’t want to take it, but I was so happy that day. I wish I could return to that day. When it was just us and Gianna didn’t know. Now apparently, her first love is back. I should feel secure; she hasn’t given me any reason to doubt her, but still—she left with him that day, she called his name in her sleep.
I push the phone back into my pocket and start the car. Maybe I’m feeling like this because we haven’t seen each other in a couple of days. I’ll just stop by, and I’ll feel much better. I make the twenty-minute trip to
