It’s late, the kind of late where the world feels still and heavy. not cold but not warm just tolerable, everything is calm except for the storm raging between you and Tommy. You’re standing in the driveway of Arrow house, the glow of the porch light barely reaching him. He’s a few feet away, hands in his pockets, head low like he’s waiting for the blow. You’re shaking, not from the temperature but from everything he’s kept from you.

“Tommy, i need you to need me back okay. Why wouldn’t you tell me about the kiss?” Your voice breaks, but you keep going, the words spilling out faster than you can think. “Why didn’t you call me while you were away? Why won’t you ever just let me all the way in?”

Tommy looks up at you, his jaw clenching and his birmingham accent thick, eyes dark with something between guilt and defiance. “I thought you were leaving,” he says quietly, like it’s an excuse. His voice is raw, almost defensive, but sorry. “I didn’t know what else to do. I was drunk… Grace didn’t mean anything.”

You step back slowly trying not to burst into a flood of tears, but they start to well up in your eyes. Tommy just takes you in his arms and slowly whispers in your ear on repeat “i’m so sorry.” do you believe him? do you take him back? up to you…