Page 121 of Raspados & Regret

Okay.

Fabián

Don’t say it like that.

Please don’t say okay like that.

I laugh once, and there’s no humor in it.

Elías

You’re reading tone in a single word now?

Fabián

I know you…

I’m not trying to hurt you, Lalo.

God, I swear I’m not.

Fuck him.

Fuck him for saying things like that after making me feel like something he has to manage.

Elías

Yeah.

I believe you.

I put the phone down on my chest and stare at the ceiling, letting myself sit in the feelings. Maybe it would have been different if we had done all of this at his place; at least then he’d have to live with looking at his bed and seeing us there.

He sends one more message.

Fabián

I don’t regret you, please know that. Not for a second. And I’m not saying I never want you again. I just want a little time to work through all these new feelings and what it all means.

I’m just not ready for the whole world to know who I’m sleeping with.

My eyes burn, knowing those words should help. That I wasn’t some one-night stand he’s never gonna call again. It does and it doesn’t.

I mean, I believe him.

That’s the worst part. I believe he doesn’t regret my mouth, my body, my bed, my hands, or the way he came apart inside me and cried like he couldn’t stop himself from feeling.

I believe he doesn’t regret me in the dark.

But daylight is different.

Church is different.

Family is different.

A comment section on the internet is different.

Men like Fabián can want you like you are air in a locked room and still flinch when someone opens a window.