I can have regret, but I can also make it right. I can text him. Tell him. I can’t undo what I said, I can’t undo the tequila, but in this swirled, blurred, state, I know that I need to see him. To tell him, and this time I don’t think we’d find ourselves on different sides. I’ll cross the bridge to him if he’ll let me.
SHE WANTED TO CALL HIM SHE ALMOST DID
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