Page 32 of Dear Roomie
It does it again.
And again.
The notifications seem to arrive in a never-ending wave. My dread only deepens with each new message, but it’s nothing compared to the weight that settles once the phone falls silent.
Seventeen missed calls and forty-eight unread texts. All of them are from Tanner.
Fuck.
I wasn’t expecting it to be this bad.
Missed call
O, I’m sorry, babe
Please pick up the phone
(3) Missed calls
I’m really,really sorry
Answer the phone, O
I know I messed up, just talk to me, please
Please, O, you are killing me
(2) Missed calls
James, answer your phone
(2) Missed calls
Babe, I’ll change
I won’t push you again
I love you, please answer your phone
The texts continue like that, getting more and more desperate as the hours passed without a response. I don’t listen to the voicemails; I already know they’ll all be Tanner drunk off his ass, alternating between begging for forgiveness and demanding I answer him in the same breath.
I’m about to turn the phone back off when another call comes through.Fucking read receipts. He was probably waiting for me to open his messages.
I take a deep breath and answer the phone. Might as well get this over with.
“Baby, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll never ask you to do that again. I was drunk and an asshole, and I’m sorry. Please forgive me, O.” His desperate apology rings out before I can utter a hello. He at least sounds more sober.
“I’m tired. Can we talk about this in the morning?”
He may be sober, but I am not, and I don’t trust myself to have this conversation like this.
“I’m sorry. Please just tell me we are okay. I love you. Please tell me I didn’t ruin us.”
My heart melts at the raw anguish in his voice, and my anger melts away with it. “Tanner, love. We are fine, I promise. I love you too. I just went out with Chelsea and Evelyn tonight, and I’m tired. Let’s talk about this more when we are both rested and sober.”
“Okay. I love you, babe. I really am sorry.”
“I know. I love you too. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
