He exhaled slowly, forcing himself not to end the call first.
The call went unanswered.
Luca stared at the screen until it dimmed, his own reflection staring back at him. He swore under his breath and called again. He should stop. He should let her cool off. Let her process whatever storm she had decided to build around him. He leaned forward on the sofa, elbows braced on his knees, phone dangling loosely from his fingers.
He needed to see her. Needed to look at her face when she was angry. Needed to read the truth in her eyes rather than guess at it through silence. Needed to touch her, if only to reassure himself that she was still within reach. Without her, everything else dimmed. All background noise. He opened his messages and typed two words.
I'm sorry.
He stared at them.
It felt insufficient. Thin.
What did she want to hear? What did she need? Would she want explanations? Promises?
He swallowed. He would do anything. He sent the text.
