“It’s been awhile,” I said, sounding tired to my own ears.
There was silence on the other side of the line.
“I’m with Brady now,” she replied. To most, this would sound rude, or maybe even bragging, but to me, I didn’t blame her. Couldn’t. She sounded… tired. Stating a fact.
“Again?” I teased, half serious.
A sigh. Static? And then I thought I heard her whisper my name with slight annoyance, “Andrew.” She drew it out into at least five syllables.
I heard her breathe deep, ready to answer.
“It’s different this time.” It was like she was saying sorry. Not to me, to Brady. I don’t deserve a sorry. Maybe I do, though, in a way.
“Yea? How?” I pounced, and already knowing she probably wouldn’t tell me, or at least tell me the truth. Hell, I didn’t deserve that either.
“This time,” she paused before continuing with another static sigh that hurt my ear, ”..this time I am not intoxicated with thoughts of you.” Her confession. Her promise. Her resignation.