"He will come back, he will come back," Anne repeated.
She wanted to believe that if, spoken aloud, her words would become true. She looked once more at the window, hoping to see him. See him coming back to her.
"Frederick, please," she pled. Anne reached for her phone and called him, for the third time in a row. No answer, again. She left another message.
Maybe he just needed time and space. Time and space to realize that he was overreacting, that things did not have to end. That their relationship did not have to fall apart.
Maybe, when he felt calmer, they could talk and he could see things clearly.
The rain that had started hours ago did not stop as wells as Anne's tears did until she finally fell asleep, clutching her phone in her hand.
But it never rang.
