I wasn't even sure what I was doing, only that I wondered if there was still a chance for us to make things right.
I took one more step forward—that was all I could do.
Rebecca followed me home, frustrated. "Rachel, has this guy saved your life or something? Can't you take a page from my book and be a bit more carefree?"
The living room lights were dimmed to the lowest setting, casting a somewhat yellow hue over the space.
I poured myself a glass of peach wine and downed it in one gulp. "We're both in the same boat, Rebecca. You're not so carefree either. You and that guy have been in contact, don't think I don't know."
I sighed, feeling a sense of melancholy.
"It's been ten years, and you're still entangled. Love unrequited, and hate has taken root. Rebecca, do you think we'll end up like you?"
Rebecca remained silent.
I received an audio message from Zach.
In the audio, Megan's voice carried a hint of sarcasm: "What are these? Sand fruits? Aren't those crabapples? Why such a rustic name?"
"What does it matter what she calls them? Get out, and don't come in without my permission in the future."
"Mr. Wilson, I..."
"Get out!"
I closed the audio and took a sip of water.