Page 64 of A Million Times, Yes
When I filled my lungs this time, I heard myself release it. And I felt it. “Yes, Mom, I’m sure.”
Jordan:Another run where you were missed.
Jordan:Talk to me, Maya. This is fucking excruciating.
Me:I told you, I need time.
Jordan:Time for what?
Me:If you think this is easy on me, it’s not. Jordan, my head is a mess right now.
Jordan:Let’s talk it out.
Me:That’s the last thing I need.
Jordan:But it’s everything you need. Trust me.
Me:I did that ... and you lied to me.
Jordan:Come over.
Me:No.
Jordan:Then answer your phone, I’m calling you.
Me:Hard no.
Jordan:Maya, please.
Chapter Seventeen
Jordan
Me:Maya, please tell me you’ve had enough time. I just want to talk to you. Please.
Five days.
Five whole fucking days since I’d seen her. Even longer since I’d touched her. Since I’d rubbed my nose across her skin and inhaled that green-apple-and-lime scent. Since I’d heard her breathe. Since her body had leaned into mine, aching for more—more of my hands, my mouth, my tongue.
Why, with every day that passed, did I miss her more?
Did I want her more?
Did I yearn for answers I just wasn’t getting?
I couldn’t handle the unknown. The silence. The thought of her not letting me back in. The idea that I might not see her again.
And these random, standoffish texts from her weren’t helping. They didn’t offer any reassurance. They only made me want to walk into her goddamn apartment building and knock on her door.
I wanted her to bend.
No.
Ineededher to bend.
To come over.
To answer her fucking phone and hear me out.
