Darrell

That Monday, after lectures ended, I headed straight to my office and dropped into the chair behind the desk. I checked my watch to see it was 11:58. Bella should be here any minute. I’d made it crystal clear: noon sharp.

My phone buzzed. It was Gina, and her text read:

“Sorry, I didn’t reply for three days. I’ve been out of it.”

I stared at the screen for a second, thumb hovering, then typed back one word: “Okay.”

I leaned my head against the chair, closed my eyes, and tried to shove the irritation down.

Another buzz. Her again.

“Are you angry?”

I exhaled through my nose. Typed:...