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The phone buzzes just moments later, and I read my fate.
You said that last time.
FUUUUUUCK! Deep breath. She's right, you know. Time to lay my cards on the table.
But this time I'm getting help.
At least her next answer is mercifully quick, which fills me with hope.
Help?
A doc from the hospital- a psychologist.
Oh. Good.
Ugh. Interpreting texts is always sketchy. I know we desperately need to talk, but I might only get one chance at this, and I can't risk screwing things up again.
Can you give me some time to work this out?
-o-
No response. My heart wrenches. Will she wait for me?
Time sounds like a good thing.
And suddenly, it doesn't.
I can't bear another of her messages.
So I'll call you then?
Sure. Take care, Edward.
Take care. Have a nice life.
I stuff the phone in my pocket, turn my head to the side and barf up my lunch.
It's not going to be easy, peeling away the curtain and inviting Banner to run amok in my subconscious, but I know one thing: this pity party is officially over.
Time for the phoenix to rise from the assholeness.
A/N: Heartache and vomit. Wonderful. But that loaded hot dog just had to go! So...I'm hesitant to answer reviews right now, really not wanting to spoil the story. Go ahead and rant and curse and cast spells-I'm reading them all...from a safe hiding place. A thick, orange, bullet-proof shell. XXX ~BOH