I've started this chapter a dozen times, and each time I've erased everything. I try to make stories enjoyable and realistic, and when you have superheros, you have a little leeway with the realism. However when I decided to make these versions of Bruce and Diana into just humans, no powers, no capes, no alter egos, I knew this also meant they would experience hardships that normal people would face.
Overall the reaction to the last chapter has been positive. There are some people who understand where I was coming from when I wrote this, and I truly appreciate those in my corner. There are others who, while not entirely happy, understand that it is a story and sometimes drama needs to be added. I realize I'm rambling and I should've gotten to the story already after months of silence, so I'll get back to the story.
~AJ
June 15. Santorini Hospital. 25 Years Ago.
The white walls of the hospital made the hallway look much brighter than usual, much more serious, and to five year old Diana Prince, it was another thing that had made her scared.
Antiope glanced over her shoulder, stopping in her tracks when she noticed the look on the face of her small niece. "Diana," Antiope said softly, turning to face the child. She carefully bent down to face Diana, dropping to her knee, before she placed a hand on Diana's shoulder and offered her a small smile.
She knew Diana was scared - a few hours ago she had seen her own mother drop to the ground, unresponsive. Luckily for Hippolyta, Antiope had stayed in the office next door, responding quickly when Diana ran to her crying. It had been a shock for the girl and she had been unable to help herself from continuing to cry as the paramedics put her mother in the back of the ambulance and drove her away.
Antiope had tried to calm Diana. She tried to reassure her that her mother would be fine, but it was to no avail. Even after Hippolyta had called from the hospital and tried to convince her daughter she was going to be fine, Diana was still skeptical. She wanted to see her mother for herself, and both Antiope and Hippolyta knew she wasn't going to be able to rest until she did. Which is where the two found themselves, walking down the quiet hall of the hospital, making the journey toward the room Hippolyta had been confined to for the past five hours.
"It's okay to be scared, little one," Antiope said. She cautiously rubbed Diana's arm, trying to soothe the child's nerves. "Your mother is going to be just fine."
Diana responded with a slight nod, rubbing the last few tears from her eyes before she took a deep breath. "How can you be sure?" she asked.
Antiope offered Diana a smile. She carefully pushed Diana's dark hair over her shoulder, reached up to fix the clip on the side of her head, and placed a finger on the tip of the child's nose. "Because I am smart," she said with a wink. "And she loves you too much."
Diana gently bit her bottom lip and wrinkled her nose, contemplating her aunt's answer. When she was satisfied with the answer, she nodded and let out a small sigh. "I was only a little scared," she whispered, showing her hand, displaying the small gap between her thumb and index finger signaling the amount of fear she was confessing to feeling.
Antiope only chuckled, bent down, and placed a kiss on the crown of Diana's head. "Of course," she said. She quickly stood and offered Diana a hand, watching as the girl placed her small hand in her own, before they continued their journey to the end of the hall.
The two stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall, staring at the door that closed Hippolyta off from the rest of the patients on the floor. Antiope let out a small sigh, glanced down at Diana and offered her another smile, before she gently knocked on the door. She waited until she heard her sister's voice on the other end of the door, before she opened the door and stepped inside, letting Diana follow her inside, closing the door behind the child.
"Mother," Diana called out, rushing ahead of Antiope to the curtain drawn around the bed. She quickly grabbed the curtain and pulled it back, her smile wavering when she saw her mother laying in the bed, attached to multiple machines.
Hippolyta, who had been consumed by the file in her hand, looked up when she saw her daughter standing at the foot of her bed. "Diana," she said with a weak smile. She quickly closed the file and placed it on the bed beside her, trying to hide it beneath her leg, offering Diana her full attention. "You shouldn't be here, my little sun and stars."
Hippolyta looked over at Antiope and furrowed her eyebrows, clearly upset that she had brought her daughter to the hospital. She never wanted Diana to see her hurt. She never wanted her daughter to see her weak. She had tried her whole life to remain strong and fight for what she wanted. When Diana had come along, she had fought even harder, building her empire up from nothing - unfortunately Hippolyta was stubborn and was prone to working too hard at times.
"She insisted," Antiope said as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. It was the only explanation either of them needed. Antiope waited for her sister to glance at her before she raised an eyebrow. "You should be resting," she said, motioning toward the file her sister had tried to hide. Hippolyta only shook her head, silently telling her sister she was fine, before she ran a hand through her long blonde hair. Unfortunately for her, stubbornness ran in their family, and Antiope wasn't going to let Hippolyta off as easily as she had in the past. Her sister worked herself to exhaustion and still pushed forward. One of these days she wouldn't be fortunate enough to have someone around to hear her fall. "Hippolyta," Antiope began, letting her voice drop to a whisper, "your heart will-"
"It will be fine," Hippolyta interjected. She quickly furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head once more letting her younger sister know she was not going to have this conversation now. As much as she appreciated Antiope and her slight overbearing nature, she was not going to discuss the failings of her heart in front of her daughter.
Hippolyta, once she was sure Antiope would speak no more of her health, only let out a small sigh and made room for her daughter on the bed, before she patted the empty spot beside her hip. "Come here," she whispered, quietly inviting her daughter to her side. She wanted Diana to know her mother was strong and would get through this.
Diana did as she was told and quietly climbed into the bed. She carefully avoided the wires that disappeared beneath her mother's blouse as she moved closer to Hippolyta, stopping only once to glance over at the machine keeping track of her mother's heart beat, before she laid her head on the older woman's shoulder and let out a small shudder. She let her eyes wander over the room and couldn't help the feeling of dread that washed over her as she looked at all the machines, tubes, and equipment in the room. This was where sick people came, sometimes right before they died. Did this mean her mother was going to die?
Diana tried to shake the thought from her mind as she clung onto her mother's blouse, letting her fingers dig into the material, threatening to rip the strands that held the piece of clothing together, as she tried to fight off tears. Her mother couldn't be dying.
Diana felt the tears continue to sting her eyes as thoughts of her mother no longer with her continued to fill her head. She quickly buried her head into her mother's shoulder, shuddering once more as a few tears slipped past her control and began to roll down her cheeks.
"Diana," Hippolyta said, gently caressing the young girl's back, trying to convince her everything would be okay. Diana only responded by crying harder, unable to hold the tears any longer. She would not let her mother go. She would not let her mother die.
"Diana." Antiope joined in calling her niece's name, sensing something was wrong. Diana never cried like this.
"Diana," the two said in unison, trying to get the child's attention. "Diana."
June 29. Gotham General Hospital. 11:57
"Diana."
Diana glanced up at the man who had pulled her from her thoughts. She watched as he raised an eyebrow, wondering if she had heard anything he had just explained. He pulled a hand from his white coat, clenching the pen he had been unconsciously clicking in the pocket. He offered her a sad smile, his eyes lingering on her face, watching as she shook her head clear of the thoughts that had consumed her moments earlier.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, unconsciously squeezing the hand that had been laying still in hers this whole time. She quickly stole a glance to her right and saw Bruce sitting beside her bed, his eyes glued on the doctor. "I," she began, clearing her throat once before she continued, "got distracted."
The doctor only nodded, once again offered her another sad smile, and let out a small sigh. "There was nothing you could have done, Ms. Prince," he explained. He opened the chart in his hand, glancing over her results, giving himself a moment to think. Doctor Schulman had been working at Gotham General for nearly two decades, but this never got any easier. He didn't know the circumstances surrounding the pregnancy, he didn't know whether this was something the two young people in front of him had wanted, but the look on both of their faces told him that the news he had delivered minutes prior had just ruined whatever plans for the future either of them had had.
He closed the chart and quietly tucked it under his arm. He took a step back, determined to give the couple a few more minutes to comprehend everything, when Diana's voice stopped him. "Was it something I did?" she asked softly. Her voice was barely a whisper and although he could see she was trying her hardest, Doctor Schulman could tell she was on the verge of tears once again.
"No," he said. "Your blood pressure was excellent, you're in perfect health." He watched as Diana's shoulders shuddered as she tried to hold in another sob. His lips curled into another small smile, but he knew it gave no comfort to the couple that was hurting before his eyes. He knew nothing he could say would make this any better. "Sometimes these things just happen," he whispered. "I understand this is a very emotional time. I will give the two of you some time to process this and come back with some more information."
Diana only nodded and squeezed Bruce's hand once more.
"Thank you, Doctor," Bruce said, speaking for the first time. He watched as the doctor placed the pen back into his coat pocket before he stepped out of the room, letting the door quietly close behind him. When he was sure the two of them were alone, Bruce turned to Diana and began to gently caress the back of her hand with his thumb. He watched as she avoided turning to him knowing she would start crying once more if she thought about what she had just gone through.
It hurt Bruce to see Diana like this, so broken, so hurt. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. He wanted to promise to never let anything happen to her. He never wanted to see her go through this pain again.
"I'm so sorry," Bruce whispered.
Diana only shook her head. "You didn't do anything, Bruce," she said. She tried to offer him a smile but the sight of his eyes on the verge of tears made it nearly impossible.
Bruce let out a heavy sigh. "That's why I'm sorry," he confessed, "I wasn't here for you. I wasn't here and you had to go through this alone. And I'm so, so sorry, Diana."
Diana said nothing as she placed a hand on his cheek, silently telling him she didn't blame him. She watched as he gently placed a kiss on the heel of her hand and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. She dropped her hand and leaned back into the bed, letting the breath she had been holding out as steady as she could. She tried to will her mind to think of a happier time, a time when she didn't feel this hurt, this broken, but it was no use. She had just lost something so precious, so beautiful.
"What happened?" Bruce asked after a moment. He wanted to know the whole story.
Diana only shrugged as she closed her eyes. "I woke up this morning and things felt….different," she explained. "I don't know how to explain it but I knew something was wrong."
Bruce watched as she struggled to finish her story. He gently patted her hand, letting her know he didn't need to know all the details right this moment. He could see it was eating her up. He could see she felt guilty even after the doctor told them there was nothing either of them could have done. He could see she wanted nothing more than to rewind time and appreciate what they had before it was too late. He could see, no matter how much she tried to deny it, she was angry that he hadn't been there for her.
Bruce let out a sigh for what seemed like the hundredth time, letting his fingers dig into his eyes as the thoughts of the past hour filled his mind. After the doctor had explained everything, he had given the two of them time to process things, promising to stand by in case either of them had further questions. It had been a little over two hours since he had arrived at the hospital, heartbroken and filled with worry. Two hours since his and Diana's lives had been turned upside down.
He let out another sigh and turned to glance at Diana. She laid in bed asleep, finally having succumbed to the exhaustion that had been plaguing her for days. Her hand was carefully laying across her abdomen as she slept, curled on her side. Bruce listened to the consistent beeping of the monitor that filled the otherwise silent room, hoping when Diana woke she would be more receptive to what the doctor had to say.
There was a small knock on the door. Bruce quietly stood from his seat and turned toward the door, hoping to intercept Doctor Schulman, if only to give Diana a few more minutes of rest. "Mr. Wayne," Doctor Schulman said as he stepped into the room. He glanced over Bruce's shoulder at his patient sleeping soundly in the bed, before he lifted the file in his hand. "I have some instructions for Ms. Prince, and would like her to continue to rest. We'll let her sleep for a bit longer, but I can go and get her discharge papers so you can have those ready when she wakes."
Bruce shook his head. "I'll go get them," he said, clearing his throat.
Doctor Schulman nodded, handed Bruce the papers in his hand and watched as the younger man placed them on the table beside Diana's bed. "Very well. I'll be back soon." With that he left the room, leaving the door slightly open knowing Bruce would be following him out soon.
Bruce let out another sigh as he turned to face Diana. He watched as her lips twitched into a small smile and for the first time in hours, he let himself smile as well. He cared for this woman so much it hurt. All he wanted was for her to be happy- he almost forgot how much he loved her smile.
He quickly walked over to the bed and grabbed the lone pen that was laying beside the sheets of information he had just placed on the table. He quickly scribbled out a small note to Diana, letting her know where he would be in case she woke up and found herself in an empty room, promising her that he would be back, before he leaned down, kissed her forehead, and walked out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind him.
Bruce walked down the hall toward the front reception desk, trying his hardest to flash a smile to the women sitting behind the desk. They all stared back at Bruce, curiosity on their faces. They wanted to know why Bruce Wayne was here at the hospital, and they probably would have found a way to ask, had one of the nurses that had helped Diana earlier not stepped up to offer assistance. "Mr. Wayne," she said with a smile, turning to glare at the other three women who sat behind her, "how can I assist you?"
"Um, Doctor Schulman said I could get Diana's discharge papers-"
"Of course," the nurse said, her blonde ponytail bobbing as she nodded her head. She reached over the ledge of the desk and grabbed one of the unmarked folders. She carefully opened the folder, glancing at the papers inside, before she handed them over to Bruce. "Here are Ms. Prince's discharge papers. Doctor Schulman and I will be in shortly to go over everything and have her sign them." She watched as Bruce nodded, clutching the papers close to his chest.
"Thank you," Bruce said.
The nurse only nodded. "You're welcome, Mr. Wayne," she replied. She waited a second and opened her mouth to speak, however she decided against it, turning to walk away from the man before she could ask what had been on her mind.
"Bruce?"
Bruce turned to face who had called his name, his eyes widening when he saw the woman stand from her seat in the waiting room. "Shayera," he said, stepping toward Diana's best friend. "How long have you been there?"
Shayera shrugged and ran a hand through her hair, letting out a small sigh. She didn't want Bruce to worry about her, not when her best friend was laying in a hospital bed. "How's Diana?"
Bruce dropped his head and shook it. "She's asleep right now," he replied, "but I don't know. She hasn't said much."
Shayera nodded. She knew how Diana was when she was upset about things. She never wanted to talk about them, no matter how much she begged others to share what was troubling them. She waited until Bruce looked up, locking her eyes with his, before she asked, "And the baby?" She wasn't an idiot. She knew when she had rushed Diana to the hospital this was probably going to happen, but she also didn't want to speculate.
Bruce only shook his head. There were no other words needed. Shayera watched as Bruce took in a deep breath and twisted her lips, hurt that this was what the cocky man she had once hated had been reduced to. Without a word, she took a step forward and wrapped her arm around Bruce, enveloping him in an unsuspecting hug.
Bruce, unsure of what to do, froze. It was only a few weeks ago Shayera hated his guts just like every smart person in Gotham. He wasn't sure what to make of this newly found change. "This is where you hug me back," Shayera whispered sarcastically.
Bruce let out a small chuckle and obliged, wrapping his arms around Shayera. "Thank you," he whispered. Shayera nodded, dropping her arms from around him. He mirrored her actions and offered her a small smile. "I think Diana could use another friend when she wakes up," he said, nodding toward the hallway that housed the room he and Diana had been occupying.
"I agree," Shayera said with a nod, watching as Bruce started down the hallway before she followed him to where her best friend was.
The next morning Bruce walked the hallway that led to the apartment Diana and Shayera shared. His head ached and his eyes burned, the repercussions of the sleepless night he had gone through. When Diana had been discharged from the hospital the previous day, she had claimed she was tired and wanted to go home to rest. Bruce had offered to come over to keep her company but she politely refused his offer, claiming she needed some alone time. Not wanting to anger her, he followed her wishes, letting Shayera bring her home. That night he had stayed up wondering what he could have done differently.
He had heard what Doctor Schulman said, there was nothing he nor Diana could have done, but he wasn't convinced. He could have been there for her, and he stayed up until the sun cracked through his curtains blaming himself for being absent.
Bruce stopped in front of Diana's apartment door, took a deep breath, and gently knocked on the thick piece of wood. He let out a small sigh as the door opened to reveal Shayera, her hair in a messy bun atop her head. She gave Bruce a weak smile, trying to hide the exhaustion that plagued her body as she rubbed her tired eyes with her hand. "Bruce," she whispered, greeting the man barely conscious and moved aside to let the man in the apartment.
Bruce quickly walked in and watched as Shayera closed the door behind him. He glanced over at the coffee table that was litered with case notes and reports; Shayera was still working on the murder of the latest John Doe found in Gotham. "How is she?" he asked.
He watched as Shayera placed the file in her hand on the coffee table, not caring where it landed, before she let out a sigh. When she and Diana had come home, she had tried to talk to her. She wanted Diana to know that she was here and willing to talk about how she was feeling. But Diana only brushed her off, giving her roommate a small thank you before retreating to her bedroom where she had stayed the whole night.
"She hasn't come out of her room," Shayera confessed. She crossed her arms over her chest and let out another sigh before she dropped her head and closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Between staying up late with an extra case load and watching over Diana, she had only got a few hours of sleep last night. "I'm worried about her, Bruce."
Bruce nodded as he stared at Diana's bedroom door. He was worried about her as well. He opened his mouth to speak when he felt Shayera's hand on his arm. He looked over to the woman, his furrowed eyebrows softening when he saw the concern etched on her face. "I'm worried about both of you," she stated. "How are you?"
Bruce only shrugged off her concern. "I'll be fine," he said.
Shayera continued to stare at the man, unconvinced. He was doing the exact same thing as Diana. He was avoiding talking about how he truly felt. "Bruce," she began, only to be cut off by Bruce shaking his head.
"I'll be fine," he repeated, taking a step toward Diana's room. "I'm going to see how she's doing," was all he said before he left the room, walking down the small hall, stopping in front of his girlfriend's bedroom door.
He knocked softly on the door, calling her name quietly, waiting a few moments for a response. When he heard none, he carefully opened the door and peeked his head inside. "Diana?" he whispered, stepping inside, closing the door once he was fully in the room.
Diana sat on her bed, her back against the wall, her knees bent, holding the sketchbook she was currently doodling on in place. Her eyes were so focused on the movements of her hands, she didn't acknowledge Bruce's presence, and he wondered if she had heard him enter the room.
He watched her for a few moments, watching as her right hand kept the page steady, as her left brushed the pen over the page, carefully creating a new layer of texture to the piece. He watched as her eyebrows furrowed and she froze, quietly cursing to herself before she lifted the pen from the page hoping to fix the mistake that was soon to become permanent on the paper. She tilted her head and lifted the entire sketchbook, carefully tilting it to try and rid it of the extra ink that had spilled, but when that only made things worse, she let out a sigh and dropped the book onto the bed.
"You get too ambitious and it'll ruin the whole thing," she stated, placing the cap back onto the pen, before she placed it on her nightstand. She glanced up and looked at Bruce, acknowledging him for the first time since he stepped into the room. "Hi," she said, focusing her gaze at the door rather than the man standing in front of it.
"Hi," Bruce said, taking a step toward the bed. He watched as her eyebrows furrowed and she let out a loud sigh, before she grabbed the sketchbook from the bed and tossed it into her nightstand's drawer, making sure to slam the drawer shut. "Are you alright?" Bruce asked, mentally cringing at himself the moment the question left his lips.
"No," Diana said, turning to glare at the man. "I am not alright." She leaned back against the wall and buried her face into her hands, taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds, before she tried to steadily let it out, trying to keep control of the anger that had been building. "And I think you should go, Bruce," she said into her palms, not wanting to look up at the man who wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms like he had the day before.
Bruce only raised an eyebrow. She was angry. He understood why, but he didn't know why it was directed to him. Was it because he hadn't been there with her when everything had happened? Was it because he had been unreachable? "Diana," he began.
She only shook her head, removing her hands from her face, and glared at him. "Please, Bruce," she whispered, "you just need to leave."
"Is this because I wasn't there yesterday?" he found himself asking before he could stop himself. "Are you mad at me because I wasn't there?" He took a seat on the edge of the bed, ignoring the look of pain on Diana's face as he inched closer. "I'm sorry, Diana," he said, his voice raising slightly, "I'm sorry I wasn't there. If I knew, I would've been here. You can't be mad at me for not knowing."
Diana only shook her head as she scooted toward the edge of the bed, away from Bruce. "I'm not mad at you," she said softly, avoiding his gaze.
Bruce watched as she stood beside him, her arms crossed over her chest, afraid her heart would spill out if she didn't physically keep herself together. "Diana, you need to talk to someone," he pleaded. "We both need to-"
"Don't you get it," Diana said, interrupting him. "I'm angry at myself. I'm angry that I let myself get swept up in all of this," she confessed. "Bruce, we always knew things between you and me were going to be difficult, too difficult, but I was too caught up in the idea of being a family that I didn't see it." She watched as Bruce began to get angry, wondering where this was all coming from. The two of them had talked about this, they had discussed their relationship in depth. Why would she say it would never work out between the two of them?
"I think maybe you and I should end things, for good."
Bruce continued to stare at Diana. His eyebrow raised as he got more confused the more he thought about what she had just said. "Diana," he began. He wanted to tell her that this wasn't what she wanted. She had gone through something heartbreaking, something that would tear down just about anyone. She was angry, and that was understandable, but to want to end things just like this didn't make any sense.
Diana, however, wasn't going to leave room for a discussion. She had made her decision. She only hoped Bruce would leave before she began to cry and doubt her it. "Please, Bruce," she said. Her voice was low as she pleaded for him to listen and he knew there was no fighting this time. He would have to talk to her after she thought things through, else he'd make her more angry, and that was the last thing she needed to be. "Just leave."
Bruce became angry himself and clenched his hands into fists before he rose from her bed and left the room. He walked past Shayera, who only sat on the couch, her eyebrows raising in confusion as he walked out of the apartment without a word, letting the door slam behind him as he rushed down the stairs and out of the building, the weight on his chest making it nearly impossible to breathe.
Bruce pulled into the manor's estate, his hand gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. After leaving Diana's apartment he had raced home, ignoring any and all safety rules as he whizzed in and out of cars. He needed to get away from the busyness of the city and back to the manor, where he would be free to punch all the walls he wanted without consequence. He was angry, and hurt, but mostly angry. Diana had ended their relationship, implying the only reason they had stayed together was because of the baby. Had she thought this way the entire duration of their relationship? Was he just someone she had chosen to settle with once the pregnancy had come into play? He didn't want to believe it, he didn't want to think she was able to so easily forget how much they cared for each other, but there was some part of him that was scared she was right.
She had been, and still was, his employee. He had taken advantage of her - or so he thought. After all, he was Bruce Wayne, playboy CEO. If you asked anyone they'd say he was only interested in two things: money and women.
Bruce turned the wheel hard, forcing the car into the gravel that coated the roundabout in front of the manor, before he slammed on the brakes, flipped the car into park, and turned off the engine. He was out of the car, slamming the door shut, and onto the porch, by the time Alfred opened the door. "My heavens, Master Wayne," Alfred said, glancing at the car over the younger man's shoulder. He had heard Bruce revving his engine quite a ways down the road, and the unmistakable squealing of the brakes when Bruce had pulled in so suddenly was just as deafening.
"It certainly is a good thing you do not have neighbors, or else they'd surely complain of that racket," Alfred said sarcastically. He watched as Bruce walked through the door without a word, before he added, "Surely Ms. Prince would not approve of you driving so reckless."
Bruce only glared at Alfred as he handed the keys to the man. He knew he was trying to make light of a serious situation, but Bruce did not care to be lectured at the moment. "Diana can disapprove all she wants," he replied, "She and I are no longer a couple."
Alfred raised an eyebrow and shut the front door. Something was not adding up. "Master Bruce," he said, trotting to catch up to the younger man who had already made his way to the main staircase. "You know I am not about to let you break the heart of someone like Diana-"
Bruce stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at Alfred and let out a sigh. "She ended things, Alfred," Bruce explained.
"I see," Alfred said softly. He watched as Bruce let out a sad sigh and his heart hurt. When Bruce had come home last night and told him how they had lost the baby, his heart hurt for both of them. Bruce was, for all intents and purposes, his son, and he knew how much he wanted this. He wanted Diana, he wanted a family. He would've made a wonderful father. Likewise, he was so happy to have Diana as part of the family. She made Bruce happy, and that was all Alfred had ever wanted for him.
"She needs some time, Master Wayne," Alfred said, vouching for the woman who had become not only a dear friend, but a daughter to him as well. He knew she was hurting, which meant they both had probably said things neither of them truly ment.
Bruce only shook his head and turned away from Alfred. "She made it perfectly clear we were never meant to be," he said angrily. He charged up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind, saddened by how the two were handling this trying time. He only hoped they would soon learn just how much each other truly meant to the other.
Bruce rushed into his bedroom, kicking the door open, startling Ace who had been lying quietly in the corner waiting for him to come home. Ace began to bark, which only frustrated Bruce more. "Quiet," he said sternly, quieting the dog who only looked up at Bruce before he walked out of the room with a huff.
Bruce let out another sad sigh and shook his head, unable to believe what he was doing as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He glared at the screen and bit his bottom lip, his heart and head arguing over whether this was a good idea. He had just broken up with Diana an hour ago. He needed to focus on how to get her back, not get himself into another situation. He shook his head as he unlocked his phone, took a deep breath, and scrolled through his contacts. His eyes quickly found what he was looking for and without a second thought, he pressed the green button on the screen. His heart began to race as he pulled the phone up to his ear and heard it ring twice before he heard the voice on the other end.
"Hello?" they answered, their voice layered with concern and confusion.
Bruce took another deep breath, mentally debating if this was the right thing to do. "Hi," he answered back. He quickly cleared his throat and undid his tie, pulling it from his neck. "Meet me tonight?"