I bring my hand up to rub my eyes, and something falls on my face. My eyes open, and there’s a drip line inserted in my hand. I think I must be in the hospital for a brief moment, but then I realize I’m still in the guest room of Joseph’s condo.
The vibration starts again and takes my attention. My gaze follows the god-awful noise to my ringing cell. I turn to take hold of it, but a cramp shoots through my stomach.
Man, that hurts!
I pick up my phone through the pain and look at the caller ID.
To my surprise, it’s Daddy.
Great!
News of me answering the door at my ex’s place has probably got him all excited. Daddy will be thrilled to know he was right abouthimall along.
I let it go to voicemail because I can’t deal with Daddy’s shit right now. I rest the phone on my chest, and it vibrates again, making me thankful I still have it on silent. I look at the caller ID, andhispicture flashes before my eyes. My breathing increases, and I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping the image will disappear. When the vibration stops, I take a deep breath.
Placing my cell back on the nightstand, I lie there for what seems like hours, listening to it vibrate repeatedly until it finally stops.
Then, I wait and wait for it to vibrate again.
Nothing.
Panic washes over me.
Maybehehas given up?
I turn and pick up my cell, pressing the button to activate the screen, but there is nothing. It’s black. I press the power button, but a battery sign indicates it’s dead. A quick scan of the nightstand tells me Joseph plugged my charger into the wall, so I quickly push the cord into my phone.
I know I need to wait for a while, but I become impatient after a minute or so, so I press the power button. The screen flashes to life, and I lie on my back with my phone above my face, staring at the screen.
The panic rises, and tears form in the corner of my eyes.
The screen fades to black, and I stare at it, imploring it to ring.
Nothing.
Even though I hatehimright now and know I can never forgivehim, I don’t wanthimto give up on me. As crazy as that sounds, the fact thathe’scalling makes me feel better.
I close my eyes, and it forces the tears to fall onto the pillow.
The pillow that covers my necklace, the onehegave me in Paris. The one that’s engraved with our initials in a love heart and the words that mean so much,Until the End of Time.
That’s when I give upall hope.
Two lives—so polar opposite of each other.
My eyes flash open when the phone vibrates again. Right there in front of me ishisface, and withthat image, I’m instantly calm. I smile and hold the phone in both hands to my chest, almost embracing it.
I know I must be losing my mind!
How can a call fromhimbring such relief?
My body relaxes, knowinghehasn’t given up on me.
My cell continues to vibrate, but the time between the calls is becoming longer and longer. Each time I thinkhe’llstop,heproves me wrong by calling again. I know I’m probably torturing myself, but it’s the only thing I have left ofhim.
A knock sounds on my door, and I look up, placing the phone under my pillow.
Joseph walks in with a tray, then sits next to me. “How are you feeling?” He hands me a glass of water and two tablets.
