***Hi everyone! Here’s a BONUS post…just ’cause lol. I clearly cannot stay away from this blog; I just love writing so much! And of course I felt like you guys should know, at least a glimpse, of how Anna was doing! Enjoy!***
The phone rang, for the seventh time today. I willed myself not to pick up; instead I picked at my nails, averting my eyes from the lit screen. Seventh time meant he was soon realising the message. That I didn’t want to speak to him. Before that, it had been twelve calls; before that twenty-two. And so on. The screen eventually stopped flashing, and I looked at it, waiting for a red flickering to occur. The light punched in, on time. The flashes were consistently present and evenly spaced out. One flicker occurred half a second early, and I knew it was a message. I leaned over the bed, and unlocked the screen. His name accumulated most of my calls box. Messages alerting me to a voice message, most likely by him. Yet again.
I didn’t want to listen. I shouldn’t listen. My heart was beating so hard it hurt. I wanted to know what he had to say; hear his voice; his inevitable plea for forgiveness, for the hundredth time. I wanted to hear that he was sorry; that he wasn’t discarding me like the used trash on sidewalks of New York City. I had hoped he’d say he cared for me; that, in some way, he stilled loved me. If not for my own sanity, then for the sake of our relationship not ending like this. Of all things, not like this!
I knew Adam wouldn’t approve of me listening to the voicemail, but luckily for me, I locked myself in his room. He was cooking outside, and told me to relax in here until he called me. He was sweet, making my stay hard to let go. Making my grasp on Daniel, rather easy to let go. And before you start thinking that Daniel was replaceable, or that Adam was second pick; I mean to say that Adam is making my heart and mind mend a whole lot quicker and easier.
Too bad, it wasn’t a complete mend, otherwise I would have stopped myself from listening to the countless voicemails Daniel left me. I dialled the voicemail number, and waited.
“You have 33 voicemails and one new message. Message received at 5:46PM…”
I breathed in and waited.
There was a silence.
Slight shuffling. Then a breath sighed. I imagined him running a hand through his hair, contemplating how and what to say.
“…Anna,” he said, finally. A pause. Hesitance. “…I still think of you when I see my mother’s bracelet.”
I whipped my hand out from underneath my hair, and threw my phone across the room. It broke into pieces on the floor. I’ve always dropped my phone, and no other phone could take as many hits as my trusty BlackBerry has over the past few years. So it took a lot of force, which I now realised as I stared at my phone on the floor, to shatter it into pieces. My arm even hurt a little from the tug at my elbow.
I started laughing. An unexpected reaction, I know. But it just so happens I’ve used up my quota of tears, and I’m fresh out. Without control, I rounded my mouth and cackled. Eventually, my laughs teetered off and then faded. Then, I just smiled, somewhat relieved after having a laugh.
A knock on the bedroom door sounded. “Anna, are you alright?” Adam asked.
“Fine,” I called back. My voice surprisingly smooth; I expected it to be shaking. “I’m fine.”
“Dinner’s ready.” The voice was muffled, by both the door and the fan of the kitchen.
“I’ll be right out.”
I sighed. Time for that upgraded BlackBerry.
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