My heart was beating too fast and my chest felt heavy. She regretted it. That was what she was telling me. She regretted sleeping with me. Whatever it was we’d had together, she didn’t want to fix it. She wished it hadn’t happened. We were a mistake. That tiny spark of hope I’d stupidly been nursing—maybe she really had been trying to help with all that research stuff… maybe it meant she cared—snuffed out in an instant.
