Gino
Hey Babe.
Me
Hey
Gino
You ok?
Me
Same
Gino
Anything I can do?
Me
I’ll be fine
Gino
Can I call you?
Me
Sure
The phone rang, and I took a big breath before answering. “Hi,” I said, trying to sound happy to hear from him.
“I needed to hear your voice,” he said.
I closed my eyes, guilt washing over me.
“After not speaking to you while you were away, I realized how much hearing your voice makes me feel better.”
More guilt. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. I’m just saying it wasn’t easy for me, especially after everything that happened to you.”
This was an opportunity to come clean. An opportunity to tell him that we weren’t working. That my feelings had changed. That we needed to break up. But it had been three years. I needed to see him to have a conversation like that. “When do you think you’ll be back in Colorado?” I asked, knowing an in-person conversation would be best.
“I’m not sure. Why? Do you need me?”
I used to. When I was young and needed direction, he’d given me that. “I guess not.”
“What’d you do today?” he said, changing the subject without even realizing it.
“I bought a snowboard.”
“What?”
“I snowboarded twice in Park City and got the bug.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” he said. “I didn’t even know you could snowboard.”