I'm sitting in the hotel room when he comes in. He's a fucking mess, almost as bad as me. His eyes are red and I can tell he's been drinking. He just stands there at the door staring at me, hoping I'll say something, but I have nothing to say. And suddenly I can't hold it in anymore. I run up to him and hug him tighter than I've ever hugged a person before. Honestly I think I was scared to let him go. For the millionth time today, I start crying as he wraps his arms around me. I don't say anything. I don't need to. He knows why I'm so upset.
"You're not coming are you?" he says quietly, and I can tell he's trying to stay composed. I cling to him tighter, sobbing uncontrollably.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper, burying my face in his shirt.
"It's okay," he says. But we both know it isn't.
