It’s late, but not super late. I don’t know what kind of stuff he gets up to nowadays, but I’ll take the chance and text him, anyway. So I do. I send him a simplehey.And his response comes back pretty quickly.
Now for the hard part. What do I say? I guess being honest is the way to go. If I want to get this off my chest, I need to be honest and stop lying to myself.
I’m sorry for being so mean earlier.
I hit send and stare at my phone. The little bubbles dance, telling me he’s typing. Then they stop and start. I don’t put my phone down, because the way he answers will be pivotal and I can’t look away. If he comes at me with anger, it’ll be the end of that. I am not going to force him to be nice or accept me being nice. I’m giving him an olive branch here, and if he doesn’t want to take it, then that’s his problem, not mine.
I understand why you were.
Okay, not what I was expecting him to say. It’s not much to go by. I could leave it at that, put my phone back to charge and force myself to sleep, but… it’s just not enough.
I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.
Can’t sleep.
Same issue over here.
Savannah is out of town.
My stomach does a little flip, which I hate. I hate even more that my mind instantly thinks he’s telling me that as an invitation. He wants me to know he’s alone, in his house, with his wife probably on the other side of the country or maybe even the world. I’m not entirely sure what she does, but I know she’s in the same circle as me, just not on the modeling end of it. I’ve seen her name here and there but thankfully never ran into her. I don’t care what happens with Austen and I; I still can’t stand her, and I will never think she’s right for him—or even a nice person.
I’m going home tomorrow.
His response doesn’t come right away, and as I stare at my words, I wonder why I said them at all. Why am I telling him that? Does he know where home is for me? How much does he know about my life?
It’s not difficult to find, considering I’m apublic figurenowadays. But I won’t act like Austen is obsessed with me and has been following me for the last seven years… it’s possible he forgot all about me the moment I left. Doubtful, considering the way he’s acting, but he sure had no problem moving on with his life.
Have a safe flight.
My chest tightens, and that really angers me. I guess I was hoping for something else. Something… I don’t know.
Thank you for allowing me to apologize. It helped.
Did it?
I send it before I can think better of it.
Honestly?
Yes, honestly, Austen.
I type quickly, furiously. He’s so hot and cold, close and so distant. Sort of reminds me of the good old days, when he was one way with me but then another way with everyone else.
Do I really even know who he is?
No, it didn’t. I still feel like shit.
Good. You should.
I sigh after I send that, and quickly send another.
I’m sorry.
I’m just… so angry about this whole thing.
I understand.
I think I need some time to cool off. Maybe we can talk in a few days?
