“Did you get my text? I texted you. I also went to your apartment this morning, but I don’t know your schedule and nobody answered the door. I’ve sort of been freaking the fuck out all day, because I feel like I might have messed up. Like, what if you were having a heart attack and I just dropped you off at home and left you there?” I run a hand through my hair, still holding onto Max’s hand. He looks alarmed. “And I know you weren’t—having a heart attack, that is—but the fact remains that I was a dick for leaving and I’m sorry about that. And I’m also sorry if I freaked you out, because I’m
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