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Summary
I’ll try hitting you up tomorrow.
True to her word, Dr. Yolanda Garcia does. From her bed, Trinity lets a call from Garcia go to voicemail. She doesn’t have the energy to have sex. She’s mad—but mostly sad. Her roommate is gone and seemed happy to go—preferring to fuck around at her boss’s apartment than hang out with her sorry ass. She thought she had a good thing going with Garcia, but now she feels like she’s fucked that up too. She might be in love with a woman who hates her guts. She feels used. She falls asleep before she sees the two text messages from Garcia.
tldr: a fix it fic after watching 2x10