NOAH
"I know," Mason whispered, his voice steady against the crown of my head. He didn't try to pull away.
"And I am so incredibly tired," I whispered, the confession hurting worse than any of the physical ache in my limbs.
"I am so tired. I haven't slept for more than two hours at a time since the accident. I don't even know what day it is anymore."
Mason shifted his weight, his hand moving up to press against the back of my head for a brief, comforting second.
"I know, Noah. I know."
"And I've been such a horrible friend to you," I kept sobbing, the guilt pouring out of me along with the grief.
"You kept calling and calling, and I'd just sit there on the hospital floor watching your name flash on the screen, and I couldn't bring myself to slide the bar. I didn't have a single scrap of energy left to give anyone. I'm so sorry. You deserve so much better than the way I've treated you."
