“But you’re just like them. You don’t think I’m capable. You don’t trust me to do this...”
She fixes her dress and combs her hair with her fingers, moving with the haste of a drunken person in anger when she stomps away, heading toward the door.
“Petal—”
“No!” she yells, turning on her heels as she points a finger at me. “You don’t get to call me that, Jayson. Not after this.”
Her eyes turn narrow, the expression on her face fueled by disappointment and pain.
“I’m not your Petal,” she hisses. “And never will be ever again.”
I believed her then. I believed I had lost her forever.
And I continued to believe it for four cruel years.