~ Harley ~
I don’t text him the next morning.
Which is insane.
Because we literally survived a pregnancy scare twenty-four hours ago and my brain is still buffering like bad WiFi.
But I don’t text.
I just stare at my phone.
Open his contact.
Close it.
Open it again.
Type “good morning.”
Delete it.
Type “last night was crazy.”
Delete that too.
Why does everything sound either clingy or cold?
There is no in between.
My chest feels tight again, but not panic tight.
hollow like.
Which is ridiculous because I should be relieved.
And I am.
I think.
But there’s this tiny voice in my head that keeps whispering you didn’t hate the idea.
Which is unhinged.
Fully delusional behaviour.
I toss my phone onto the bed.
“This is stupid,” I mutter.
It’s just my mind being dramatic.
