I'm beginning to have a lot of regrets lately.

I wish I had used the ketchup instead of the mustard. My mouth tastes bitter... or it could be the guilt that tastes bitter.

I wish I had told Ryan about Ash.

I wish I had told Ryan about Grant.

Clutching Ash to my chest, I turn around, muttering every prayer I can to the skies and whoever's listening beyond because I know shit is about to go down.

He looks just like he did the last time I saw him in person. Lean ...