"You could come over…" he whispers into the phone. She breathes on the other end. He's drunk, she knows. "We know you're sober now… I have orange juice…"
"Henry…"
"No one will tempt you…"
She takes another breath. He already is. And she would fall back into him if she lets herself.
God grant me the fucking serenity.
"I can't…" It breaks her heart.
"I never thought to ask where you went… I've been ready for you to come home…"
"I'm not… I can't come home… You're still partying… I can't do that anymore…"
"I'm sorry…" He hangs his head.
