Too Late For His Apology

Holt

e, every shared secret, every late-night conversation I ever had with Joshua.

od up so abruptly my chair

led, my voice tight

clicking a frantic rhythm on the polished floor. I pushed through the heavy glass

ng twist in my chest. I leaned against the brick wall of the restaurant, pr

ra,

me. I heard the resta

round. I couldn

s voice was sharp, commandin

his footsteps getti

hua cut in, his tone hardening. "The stress i

weapon, her supposed fragility a shield he

a said, his voice strained.

at the diner?" Future Joshua's voice was lace

The sound of his internal battle

till facing the wall. I didn' t want his pity, h

sion, a compromise that felt like another betrayal. "I'll take Amelia home, and then I'll com

from the wall, steering me toward a bench tucked into a small, shadowed alcove near the

walk back to the front of the restaurant, where Future Joshua was alread

ne last, conflicted look, and then dro

me alone

etlamp down the block. The minutes ticked by, stretching into an

me deserted. A group of men stumbled out of a bar across the street, their

e?" one of them slurred, his eye

phone, my fingers clumsy with fear

e," I said, my

king the exit of the alcove. "Playi

as trapped. My crutches were useless a

sh

ialed his number. It rang

oice was distr

r. "There are these guys... I'm scared. They won'

he line. I could hear Amelia' s soft vo

w. Amelia's having a panic attack. She thinks her house is go

sy, so pathetic, it wa

down my face as one of the men reached out a

lara." His voice was

ne wen

ng up

tangible danger, he chose her man

te with a crack. The sound echoed the splintering

went straight to voicemail.

s breath hot and smelling of stale beer on my

knew he was right. Joshua wasn't coming. He ha