I text Flora that I’m sorry. She doesn’t respond. I text her that I didn’t mean to hurt her—that I want us to get out of quarantine and I don’t want to do anything to mess it up. Nothing back.

I want to kiss her when we’re not sitting in a hospital room. I want to kiss her outside somewhere, where we can feel the wind in our hair, where we can hear birds chirping. Where we can both see the blue sky. Or watch a sunset. Or maybe even look at the moon together.

I watch the sun come up. I wish I could tell her how beautiful it is. Or even better, watch the sunrise with her.