Page 114 of The Bro Pact
I’m so fucking sorry, and I need to tell him.
I head toward the west garage at Moretti’s Auto Shop and park up front, jogging around to climb up the old, wooden stairs on the side of the building.
Gripping the doorknob, I slowly turn it, pushing it open with no resistance. The apartment is unlocked just like Val said it would be when I texted her to conspire with me.
She thinks Ren and I are meant to be, and this is only a little hiccup along the way. I’m just grateful she’s willing to help me talk to him.
As soon as I step foot inside the renovated apartment, the overpowering scents of fresh paint and bleach sting my nostrils.
Once my eyes blink through the fumes, everything comes into focus.
Holy shit.
The kitchen is stunning.
I wasn’t expecting it to be so high-end.
Ren did an incredible job.
Wow.
My jaw is on the floor as I gaze around at the steel appliances and granite countertops.
It’s empty of furniture and belongings, but otherwise the renovations look complete. Hope bubbles up in my gut that I haven’t ruined everything, and I’m not too late to change my mind.
God, I miss him.
The friendship, support, safety, and intimacy that came so easily isn’t something I should have let go.
I’m an idiot.
An actual fucking idiot.
And with each step, that becomes more and more clear.
I wander down the hallway and into an empty bedroom, finding the string light timeline of our trip hanging on the wall.
It’s all the photos hedidn’tpost—the photos of us—and a bunch of postcards I’ve never seen before dotted in between.
Incredible.
I plug it in, lighting up our epic journey. My eye catches on a photo I don’t recognize, so I walk over, leaning forward to get a closer look.
I gasp, pressing a hand to my heart as if that will slow the galloping horses inside.
Oh my God.
It’s the very first photo of us that the nice old lady took at the sand dunes. I completely forgot about it. Ren hid it away and never let me see it.
And now I know why.
He’s staring at me with an intensity that goes beyond a platonic friendship.
He’s staring at me as if helovesme.
I take a deep breath, continuing to walk along the timeline, a tidal wave of memories and emotions washing over me.
All of them are good.
