Page 8 of American Beauty

Her face softens, her words barely above a whisper. “I know. Being away from each other is awful, isn’t it?”

“Dreadful.”

A silence lingers, stretching across miles and time zones, thick with the weight of absence. Neither of us says it outright, but we feel it. The wrongness of this. We’re looking at each other through pixels and static, but it’s not enough. It never will be.

Magnolia exhales, shifting against her pillow. “Tell me about your day.”

“Tina and my sisters came by this morning. They made me breakfast. Leilani and Sefina hovered like I was some kind of tragic figure in a romance novel.”

Her laughter is loud and unfiltered. “To be fair, thatisthe vibe you’re giving off right now.”

I groan. “Glad you’re enjoying my misery.”

“Make no mistake. I’m sharing in the misery.”

“I know, babe.”

She grins, but it softens as she studies me. “Your family loves you so much. They want you to feel better, and that makes me happy––to know that someone is taking care of you.”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s one thing I can always count on with my family.”

Speaking of things that make us happy… I reach to the side, fingers grazing the worn leather journal beside me, lifting it just enough for her to see.

Her gaze flickers, and I catch the moment she notices—the subtle shift in her expression, the way her breath hitches ever so slightly.

I glance down at the journal she left for me. The one I’ve barely been able to bring myself to open.

“My journal.”

I nod, thumbing the edge of the leather. “I know you probably expected me to have read it cover to cover by now, but I want to take my time with it. I’m a slow reader, and I plan to savor it one page at a time.”

She doesn’t speak right away. Just blinks down at the journal, like she’s fighting something she doesn’t know how to say.

“I wouldn’t have given it to you if I didn’t trust you with all of me.”

The force of her words wrecks me in the quietest way.

“It means everything that you trusted me with this.” My fingers tighten around the worn edges, grounding myself in what it represents. “I know what this is, Magnolia. I know what it means. You’ve given me a part of yourself, and I don’t take that lightly.”

Her throat moves as she swallows, blinking once, twice. And her mouth curves into something small but real. “I don’t expect you to fly through it.”

I shake my head. “I’m going to take my time with every word.”

“So basically, you’re telling me that you’ll savor my journal like an aged whiskey?”

A slow grin tugs at my lips. “I think that’s fair to say.”

Magnolia shifts, tilting the phone slightly as she settles against her pillows. The glow of her bedside lamp casts a soft halo around her like an angel.

Myangel.

She exhales, fingers drifting to the pendent around her neck, toying with it. “I haven’t taken it off. I see it in the mirror, and it makes me think of you.”

A knot tightens low in my gut. “Good. That’s the point.”

She runs her fingers along the chain again. “It’s weird, you know?” She hesitates, then sighs. “Being apart after spending every single day together. I mean, I knew it would be hard, but––” She trails off, shaking her head. “I didn’t expect it to feel like this.”

Neither did I. “I know what you mean.”

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