Page 97 of Hate Me Like You Mean It

Then, “I’m sorry.”

The wriggly marble was back, rattling around my swelling throat. “For what?”

“Everything. I’m really, really sorry, Alice.”

Tugging the thread free, I tossed it aside. “What was in that box?”

“It’s at my place. You can come take a look whenever you’d like.”

“Gampy told me he filled it with garbage.”

“That he did.”

I gnawed the inside of my lip, my hands itching to rip something else. “Was the walkie-talkie in it?”

“No.”

“You had it with you, then?”

“It was boxed up with… some other things, but yeah.”

I nodded down at my lap, annoyed at my eyes when they started to sting.

“I didn’t hear you,” he said softly. “If you ever tried to reach me through here, just know I didn’t hear it.”

“You didn’t get the phone calls either, right?” I asked, the slight bitterness in my tone undermined by its unsteadiness. “I know the letters we sent to what we thought was your new address were all returned to sender, and the emails and texts bounced, so I’m assuming you just… blocked all our numbers before you were even out the door.”

There was a long pause on his end. “Like I said, two lifetimes’ worth of regret.”

I laughed because the alternative was to argue and sob, and I really wasn’t in the mood. “Are you almost here? I’m tired.”

“In the elevator.”

I pushed up to my feet. “Okay, and what am I supposed to do? Spray my perfume on it?”

“Something like that.”

I picked up my go-to scent and trudged out of my bedroom just as he knocked. But when I opened the door, no one was there.

“What’s this?” I asked through the walkie-talkie, my forehead rising at the path of rose petals leading down the hall.

“They wouldn’t let me do candles. Something about a fire hazard and needing permission from the building owners…”

“We’rethe building owners. My family owns this entire thing.”

“And I’m sure your brother would’ve loved to receive that call today.”

“Good point.” I stuffed my feet into a pair of sandals. “And not to be critical, but why are you Grand Gesturing in the middle of the night instead of, I don’t know, literally any other time of day?”

His warm, self-deprecating chuckle fizzed through the device. “Can you at least pretend like you’re pleasantly surprised?”

“I’m notnotpleasantly surprised. But I’m also sleepy, and— Wait, what’s the dress code?”

“You’re perfectly fine in whatever it is you’re wearing. Just follow the petals.”

“Are other people going to be there?” Because I wasn’t wearing a bra.

Though I guess it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck the patriarchy.