I try again. Voicemail.
Panic crawls up my throat, thick and choking.
He’s ignoring me.
Or maybe he’s in surgery? He could be in surgery. Right? I think he said something about that last night.
I hurl my phone onto the bed like it’s burned me and stumble to my feet.
The whole flat feels wrong, like someone’s nudged every object two inches left just to fuck with me.
The hum of the fridge is too loud. Even my own breathing sounds too loud, competing with the deafening silence of my phone.
I take a shower, turning the water up scalding hot, letting it scorch my skin, but it doesn’t burn away the tension.
I scrub my flat like it’s the scene of a fucking crime, like if I bleach the counters and vacuum the carpets and rearrange the throw pillows just right, maybe I can erase the sick feeling in my stomach.
I glance at my phone every five minutes.
Nothing. Not a text, not a call, not even a bloody carrier pigeon with a note sayingYou’re a nightmare, cheers for that.
I consider texting him again.
I don’t.
I don’t even eat all day.
By the time evening comes, I am a wreck.
Every noise makes my head snap toward my phone. Every vibration makes my stomach flip. Every passing hour makes my dread sink deeper, until I’m half convinced I’ll die alone in this flat, surrounded by perfectly aligned pillows and a fridge that hates me.
Finally, just as I’ve resigned myself to a lifetime of silent self-loathing—my phone rings.
Edward.
I nearly drop it, my fingers fumbling as I scramble to answer.
“Hi!” The word bursts out of me.
The silence that follows feels endless before his voice comes through. “Hi.”
Everything about his tone is wrong. The lack of warmth. The absence of affection.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “How was your day?”
Another long, uncomfortable pause.
“It could have been better,” he says finally.
My stomach clenches.
I did this.
“Oh,” I whisper. My fingers curl into the hem of my hoodie. “I’m sorry I didn’t go home with you last night.”
“Yes, well.” His voice is measured, distant. “You made your priorities quite clear. You wanted to stay out. I wanted to go home and sleep.”
Why does this sound like he’s talking about something bigger?
