I couldn’t breathe. My breaths were ragged gasps for air as I turned down the rocky hills that curved along my estate. My Nikes squished against the wet earth as I almost slipped on a muddy rock. I caught my balance before I could come close to the ground. My face contorted from the pain in my knees. I needed to stop running or they would give way, but I pushed myself further. At least when I was focused on the pain in my knees, the pain in my chest would ease.

I passed the last of the large redwoods that lined the hills and came across the path that led me to the treacherous woods when I first began. I was exhausted; my body drenched in so much sweat that the light drizzle from the clouds made no difference. I glanced at the watch on my wrist. It was almost nine in the morning. I had started my journey at six. My knees and legs and lungs felt those long hours. They needed to stop. They wanted to run a little faster just so I could reach my house and end their misery.

My heart, however, was unwilling to stop the much-needed distraction of physical pain. The emotional turmoil I would have to endure once I stopped almost made me turn around and run a few more laps to prolong the torture. As much as I wanted to avoid that raw, emotional pain, I wasn’t stupid. I was two seconds away from passing the hell out. I needed water. I needed food. No matter how much I wanted to rip my sorry excuse of a heart out of my chest, I wasn’t completely suicidal.

Not yet anyway.

The trail led down to the highway that followed route to my mansion. I could see the large, iron gates in the distance and her face flashed in my mind. The way her wide, wondrous brown eyes took in the view. The way she asked for Shia LaBeouf and how much surprised she was to know I knew Ellen.

She never even got the chance to meet her.

I couldn’t stop the massive amount of pain that shot through my chest as I curved off the side of the road to hold myself together. I probably looked like I had a crazy leg cramp or was having a heart attack. Either way, my outside appearance was nothing compared to the pain inside me. Her face flashed through my mind in quick images that struck me one by one. Her scent somehow lingered in the air I breathed. I heard her telling me she loves me. I saw the shyness in her express when I watched her undress and admired her beautiful body…

"Shit…" I hissed, pushing myself upright as I walked the rest of the way, limping. Even with the pain in my legs, I couldn’t distract myself. Memories of her swarmed my mind like bees. I couldn’t push her out and it was killing me. Two months and I could still image the silkiness of her skin…I can still feel her lips on mine, and the warmth of her curves.

The guard at the gate gave me a look when I approached him, drenched in sweat and crouched over. "Are you okay, Mr. Timberlake?" he asked from his security booth, peering out from the glass window.

"Do I look okay?" I snapped bitterly. He made a move to come out of the booth to assist me, but I quickly raised my hand. "Don’t. I’m fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked again and I rolled my eyes.

"Please just open the gate," I all but begged and he nodded, slow and unsure, before the buzzer went off. I walk through them, not bothering to respond when he hoped for me to feel better. What could I possibly say to that? The only person that could make me feel better hated me. At least that’s the general consensus.

I barely made it uphill, but when the gravel of my driveway crackled beneath my feet, I felt my body relax. The pain in my chest was a little duller, or maybe I just became numb to it.

I just wanted to shower and sleep after a tall glass of water. I just wanted to disappear in my sacred cocoon made my bedspread and block out the world. Sometimes when I slept, I dreamt of her, but it didn’t hurt so badly in the dream. There was a deep longing afterward, but nothing compared to the sharp pain I felt when I was wide away and thinking of her. Maybe it was because my dreams weren’t as vivid. Maybe it was because I tend to forget half of my dreams.

Whatever it was, sleep was the only thing I could do to ease my pain. Talking about my feelings wasn’t an option. Time machines have yet to be invented, killing myself was out of the question… Yes, sleep was the only possible and positive solution.

I didn’t hear my dogs barking when I got to the door and I furrowed my brows as I pulled my keys from my pocket, purposely jingling them to make noise. Nothing again.

"Brian!" I called as I finally entered my foyer, locking the door behind me. "Brennan!" I whistled loudly and there was still no response. I felt panic rising in my throat as I almost ran to the backyard. I skid to a stop when I was halfway through my living room.

"Hey," my mother greeted, her hand on my stepfather’s knee; his hand on top of hers as they sat side-by-side on my sofa. I turned my head away from their affection, unable to bare the sight of love.

"Where are my dogs?" I asked, looking at them both suspiciously.

"Trace has them," my stepfather spoke up, "They’re fine."

"Did he take them to Elisha’s?" I asked anxiously. I made a beeline for my phone.

"Justin!" my mother yelled and I stopped to raise a brow at her.

"Why are you yelling?" I asked, "Why are you guys even here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Millington?" I turned from my mother and walked over to the cordless phone by the television.

"This has to stop, Justin," my mother rambled as I dialed Trace’s number. "You should come home."

"I am home," I mumbled absentmindedly. Trace’s phone rang and rang.

"He’s not going to answer," my stepfather broke in as Trace’s voicemail popped up. I angrily hung up the phone.

"Did you tell him to ignore me or something?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yes," my mother answered and I looked her in the eyes to see if she were serious.

She was.

"Why?" I asked dumbly, "He’s my best friend."

"He’s worried about you," my mother said, "Hell, Brian and Brennan are worried about you."

"I’m fine," I quickly lied, slamming the phone back down on its base, "Tell him to bring my damn dogs back. Y’all have no right to take them." My mother frowned so deeply that she looked like she would cry.

I don’t know why I was so surprised when she actually did let a tear fall, but it broke my heart even further. I looked down, somewhat ashamed. "What are you crying for, Ma? I didn’t mean to yell…"

"Justin, it’s not the yelling," she moaned, shaking her head of curls sadly as I looked up at her. The concern in her blue eyes was sincere and motherly. "I love you and you know that… I’m suppose to be your best friend, but you can’t…you can’t even t-talk t-to me…" Now she was really crying and I watched helplessly as my step dad hugged her from the side and kissed her temple.

"What your mother is trying to say is that we don’t like the state you’re in right now and we’d appreciate it if you came home and just spent some time with the family. Get your mind off things and get some feelings off your chest…"

"Dad, that sounds all fine and dandy, but this is really different," I tried to explain, "Ma, look at me." My mother was fighting her way down to sniffles as she locked eyes with mine. "I know you’re worried, but you don’t have to be. I’m fine, really. I’ve been doing all the work I have to do… I’m out doing interviews and whatnot. I’m not missing a beat."

"Justin, I don’t give a rat’s ass about what you’re doing on the outside, it’s the inside that I’m worried about," my mother sighed, "I’ve been your best friend since you’ve been in my womb and I’ll love you through every single thing because that’s what I want to do and that’s what I gotta do, but watching you suffer the way I know you’re suffering…"

"Mama, I gotta suffer for this one," I laughed without amusement, "I definitely put my own foot up my ass. I don’t want you worrying about me being a little depressed over this. I deserve this torture. For the first time, I’m the wrongdoer in the relationship and I’m just struggling to learn how to approach this situation. I don’t know how I’m suppose to get over someone who did nothing to me."

"We can talk about that!" my mother said excitedly, like a light bulb went off in her head, "Justin, you can be depressed; I’ve seen it and we’ve gotten through it because we talked it out and prayed on it… But now… Now you won’t even let me say Sash’s name –" I winced when the pain shot through my chest right down to the depths of my gut. My mother paused. "See, that’s what I’m talking about."

"I just don’t want to talk about this," I said softly, "Like you said, we talk about everything. Let me just have this one thing that I have to do on my own."

"You’re not dealing with it," she argued, "Justin, you’re bottling it up. You’re literally running away from it." I shock my head, denying what I knew was true.

"I’m just trying to keep my mind off of it," I said, "I can’t dwell on it."

"Justin, the moment you and her broke up –"

"You mean the moment I cheated?" I said aloud, even though it stung my ears and left a nasty taste in my mouth. My mother shifted uncomfortably. "See? Even you don’t really want to talk about it."

"It’s just different, but I’m willing to try," Mama pressed on, "I just want you to be happy again." I scoffed at the preposterous prospect.

"If you really want me to be happy, than bring me my dogs back and get off my back about this," I snapped, feeling myself getting angry at nothing in particular. "And while you’re at it, build me a time machine so I can go back and not be a fucking idiot and fuck over the best thing that’s ever happened to me." The anger was building and spilling out in the form of tears now. I wiped them away like an angry child. "This is bullshit! I’m not on crack or something. Why am I getting some fucking intervention? Is the rest of the family coming to express their concerns or can I be excused from this damn conversation?" My chest was heaving from my rant and I was choking on my tears. My mind was in such an emotional haze that it was hard to really see.

My stepfather looked angry, shaking his head as he rubbed my mother’s back. She was crying silently, wiping her eyes with a tissue I never saw her pull out. "I just want you to tell me how you’re feelin’, baby. That’s all your mama’s askin’ for…" I bit my bottom lip, fuming. She wanted feelings? Fine. I’d give her feelings.

"You want to know what it feels like? It feels like somebody reached inside of my gut and ripped out everything in me," I said, struggling to explain as my tears fell heavily down my face, "It feels like…like I had the once in the lifetime chance to have a better life and I gave it up for one stupid night. I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes when I think about her. It hurts so much that I think my heart is literally breaking in half. I can’t talk about it because… it… hurts…It hurts so much, Mama…" I couldn’t tell you when she got up from the couch or when I ended up on my knees, sobbing in the middle of the floor like some wounded child, but there we were: crying. Holding one another in what felt like forever. I couldn’t calm down. I had been packing up so much that it seemed to be flowing out uncontrollably now.

"You’re gonna be okay, baby…I promise," my mother cooed softly, stroking my back with her loving hands. I was trembling with my sobs. My heart was bleeding. I left Sash in my mind freely and I cried for the loss of her. I cried for making my mother cry. I cried because I knew that I would never be okay, despite my mother’s promise. I did this. I ruined this. I had to live with this – if it’s still considered ‘living’ when Sash isn’t there.

In such a short time, I found a part of me I never knew was really missing. And now it was gone.

I couldn’t stop my tears.

-------------------------------------

"You're just about seven weeks," Marissa said, turning to smile at me. I only saw her actions through the corner of my eyes. I was preoccupied, to say the least, with the image on the screen ahead of me. It was shoddy and blue-black; the lightest blue - almost white - was peanut shaped and tinier than expected. It was weird to know that little thing, peanut-shaped and small as it is, was going to change my life forever. My eyes couldn't tear away from the image. There was something completely surreal about this moment.

"That's the head," Marissa continued when I didn't respond, moving the electronic device over my belly from a different angel. The lubricating gel was still cold and I shivered when some of it spread further across my warm skin. "You have to wait a little while longer to figure out what you're having. You're pretty early into this pregnancy." I almost whimpered when she shut the machine down, like someone had changed the channel during my favorite television show.

"Can I get a copy of the sonogram?" I asked before adding, "Make it two copies."

"One for the dad?" she guessed and I frowned.

"Yeah... I think he'd want one." I must've sounded bitter because Marissa gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Don't worry about it, Sasheirah," she told me comfortingly, "I've seen a lot more unprepared women walk through this door with babies. I've seen little girls walk through here with babies...Trust me, you're ahead of the game. You have a great career and you at least know who the father is... And apparently he's going to be in this child's life. Kudos to you… seriously." I nodded, knowing it was true, as she handed me a towel to wipe off my stomach. The blue gel was odorless, but it still managed to make me a little queasy.

"I know I'm a lot better off than other people," I sighed, "I just didn't plan this."

"Most don't," she chimed in, "But you'll be an amazing mother. I can tell." I took the compliment as she washed her hands after discarding her gloves. "I'll be right back with the sonograms." She left the room, shutting the door behind her. I pulled my shirt back over my stomach and took deep breaths. It had been a week since I confirmed my pregnancy and I still haven't called Justin. I was forcing myself to do it today rather than waiting another week. It wasn't very nice to keep his child away, but a part of me wanted to stick to my self-promise to never speak to him again.

I shook my head. The man always found a way under my skin and now he found a way inside my damn ovaries. It was infuriating to know we now had a lifetime bond. I was so sure I could withstand the months and months of loneliness and depression before finally accepting my heartbreak and moving on. It would be easy since he was in California. But now, with this child on the way, I would have to see him more often and probably talk to him ten times more... That was going to be unbearable.

My heart tore in little, sharp spurts that seared through my chest at the very thought of seeing his face and hearing his voice in person again. I'm sure he'd fly here eventually for baby things. Justin on a voicemail was hard to ignore... I can't imagine the intensity of his eyes or the smell of his skin... I missed him so very much despite my anger and it left me ruined. I wanted so badly for things to be good. I wanted him here, watching that sonogram in amazement, holding my hand... I wanted to celebrate this with him openly and happily. I wanted our love back.

But as much as I knew he wanted the same, I couldn't do it. Not now, not ever. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Even if he never cheated again, I still got sick knowing he slept with someone else. Sex was a complicated act and I spent so many nights trying to understand how he could do something that intimate with someone else and never think of me. I tortured myself wondering if he touched her or kissed her or made love to her the same way he did me. I didn't want to think about it, but it came to mind from time to time despite my effort to push it far from my mind.

I sniffled and wiped my face in shock at the moisture that nearly soaked my hand. I didn't realize I was crying, especially this much, but once I did, I found myself sobbing. I covered my face with my hands and cried quietly, chest heaving and nose stuffy. I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. I was fighting so hard to calm down, but I realized that I was terrified. I was scared of being a mother and I was scared to have Justin back in my life again. I didn’t want to be a terrible influence on the child or say the wrong things or make the wrong decision that will mark them forever. I didn't want to fall for Justin again. I knew he'd try and I knew myself well enough to know that it was going to take the grace of God to not slip up.

I considered taking him back before, just because of how sorry I knew he was, but I talked myself out of it over and over again, with no opposition from Clare who actually supported my decision to ignore him. If Clare agreed, it had to be right. Yet, here I was, crying because I hurt so badly from the thought of never being with him ever again...

"Here's your-" The door swung open and Marissa came through without warning. I turned my back to her from my spot on the examination table. She had seen me anyway, her face slightly shocked when I caught a glimpse of her. I calmed myself down to hiccups and sniffles, but I felt a hand on my back as she came up behind me. She silently handed me some Kleenex she somehow picked up.

"T-thank you," I stammered with my head bowed. I was so embarrassed. I blew my nose and she rubbed my back again in comforting circles.

"Hey now," she cooed, "No tears. You're carrying the most beautiful thing in the world. You're going to be a mother, Sash. That's beautiful." I took in her words, trying to ignore the gaping hole in my chest. The pain was dulling down, but it was still evident as I nodded and sat up straighter.

"I know," I sniffled, "I'm just so... emotional right now. It's a lot to take in." She nodded understandingly, giving me a sympathetic look as I finally turned to face her.

"You'll be fine," she said simply, handing me a manila envelope, "Here's your copies. If you ever need anything, medically or not, just call me." I took the envelope and gave her a weak smile as I slid from the tabletop.

"I will, thanks," I mumbled, trying to get myself together.

"I'll give you a minute to clean up," she told me, gesturing toward the sink, "Help yourself." I made my way to the sink and she exited the room. I grabbed my purse from the counter beside the sink, digging for my mirror. I gasped at my reflection once I got a hold of it. Yikes.

I washed my face until I was refreshed, adding some drops of Visine into my red eyes. I applied gloss and mascara until I looked presentable. I had to walk through the entire hospital to get to the parking lot through the lobby. I couldn't look crazy. I didn't want everybody to know I was losing my mind, even though I was. Once I was satisfied with my look, I practically ran to my car, giving quick waves to the 'hey's and 'hello's from co-workers. They gave me looks, but shrugged it off as I lied about being in a hurry.

But once I reached the sanctity of my car, I realized that I was rushing. I needed to get home, call Justin, and cry about it later. I was in a hurry to get past the hole in my chest and the drama of the call. My stomach was swarming with butterflies. I didn't know if I could withstand the tension much longer as I gunned down Broad Street and turned on my corner. The engine revved for no reason, as I grew anxious. I parked haphazardly, almost passing my house in my daze. I jumped out of my car and locked the doors, holding the manila envelope close to my chest.

I was breathing weird when I got to the front door of my house, my hands trembling as I grabbed my keys and fumbled to get inside. Bob meowed when I slammed the door shut behind me and locked it, walking quickly to the couch before plopping down. Bob sat at my feet as I kicked off my shoes and reached over the lamp table to grab the cordless phone. I didn't even bother removing my hoodie. My memory was sharp and I dialed his cell phone number with untouchable speed. My heart pounded in my chest as the line paused dramatically before ringing started.

I closed my eyes and hugged myself as the third ring came. My heart was throbbing as his voicemail popped up, his pre-recorded voice tearing right through me. I hung up as soon as the beep sounded. I stared at my phone, wondering if a voicemail would've sufficed, but the thought was soon interrupted as my phone vibrated in my palm. Matthew's name popped up on the screen and my breath caught in my throat. I should've expected a call back, but not so soon.

I stared at the screen before closing my eyes and flipping it open. I pressed the device to my ear silently.

"Sash!" Justin called into the line, clearly excited. He waited for a moment as I squeezed my eyes closed tighter. My chest was aching from the sound of him. "Hello? Are you still there?" I swallowed nothing as my throat dried.

"H-hey," I stammered, rolling my eyes at my lack of eloquence.

"Hey," Justin said, smoothly. He sighed into the line. "It’s so good to hear your voice." I really wished the feeling was mutual, but my heart still fluttered in my chest at his words despite the pain.

"I…umm…" I shook my head, blanking. I should’ve written this down. How do I say this?

"Are you okay?" Justin asked, concerned. I guess I would have to be damn near dying to be calling him after all this time.

"No," I answered honestly. "I’m not okay."

"Of course not," Justin mumbled sadly, "That was stupid to ask." I could see him kicking himself and it made me long to comfort him.

"It was stupid," I said bitterly, despite my opposing emotions, "But that’s not what I want to talk about, Justin."

"Good ‘cause I don’t want to talk about it either," he said before adding, "I’m tired of talking about it…"

"You’re tired?" I scoffed before swallowing my anger. "You know what? This is exactly why I didn’t want to call."

"Why are you mad?" Justin asked calmly. I had a million answers for that one, but I bit my tongue.

"Don’t worry about me. I’m not mad," I denied, "I am in a hurry, so we have to end this conversation soon." It was a lie, but I needed a quick get away when I finished giving the news.

"If you don’t have time to talk, don’t rush it now. You can call me any time you’re ready."

"Justin, I don’t want to talk, I just want you to listen," I groaned, "I don’t want to fix us, okay? That’s not why I’m calling. If I could have things my way, I would never speak to you again. I’d erase you from my got damn mind and just have a moment of peace in what feels like forever."

"Then what are you calling for if you still obviously hate me?" Hate. It was weird when he said it out loud like that. I realized that I didn’t hate Justin – the man himself – I hated stupid, inconsiderate, selfish, and disgusting mistakes he’s made. I hate that he broke every promise and most definitely shattered my heart in the process. I hated that as much as I wanted to smack him for it, I wanted him back so badly.

I decided against addressing the issue of hate out loud. "I’m calling because I just came from the doctor’s office…and I have a sonogram in my hand… with our… baby…on it." I guess I said it without saying it. I waited as I heard some shuffling on Justin’s end.

"What are you trying to say?" he whispered hurriedly, like he was rushing off somewhere. I rolled my eyes, unwilling to say the words.

"What do you mean what am I trying to say?" I whispered back for no reason.

"You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying," he said softly, raising his voice a little. I felt my heart sink a bit at the panic in his tone. I thought he’d be happy, but he was freaking out – at least on the verge to having a mental breakdown. I frowned deeply. I guess Jessica was the only one allowed to have his damn children.

"Forget that I called," I said bitterly, prepared to hang up the line before Justin cut in.

"No, no, no!" he adamantly whined. "I didn’t mean to sound like that."

"I don’t need your help," I said, fighting the tears down. I hated being so damn emotional, but the thought of Justin not being excited for our child was devastating to me. "I didn’t call to bombard you with fatherhood. I just thought you’d like to know. Maybe set up some visiting rights or something, but you don’t have to be around. I don’t even want you within a hundred feet of me anyway –"

"Sash, I’m so happy right now," Justin broke in.

"Yeah right…" I mumbled sarcastically, wiping away the few tears that fell from my eyes.

"You know me too well to think that I wouldn’t be excited about having this child right now."

"Actually, I don’t think I know you very well at all," I said bitterly, "Your reactions to certain situations have left me very surprised before."

"I thought we weren’t discussing that," he retorted.

"Whatever," I childishly spat.

"How far along are you?" Justin asked.

"I’m just about two months," I said into the line, stroking Bob’s head as he purred in satisfaction.

"We have to wait a little while to know the sex, right?" Justin chimed in. "At least we had to when Jes– " He cut his sentence short and I felt a sharp jab in my chest at the thought of her. Real hate flowed through my veins for her. As much of a desperate slut I knew she was, it still burned me up inside that she got him – even for a night – she had him. It made me sick to think about.

"Yeah, I should know in a few weeks," I continued, breaking into the awkward silence. "I’ll call to let you –"

"Call for what?" Justin asked, "I’m staying in Philly." You can insert the tire screech. My brain stopped at lightening speed. My heart, however, picked up at lightening speed.

"What the hell are you talking about?" My mind was blank now. All I felt was that phone against my ear, telling me things I never want to hear.

"I leased that place downtown while we…were together," he paused and it was painful to just know he was hurting from the past tense. "I told you I would get it so I wouldn’t be in LA all the time."

"Are you here now?" I asked.

"No, California, but I’ll be flying out as soon as possible."

"There’s no need for you to live here," I argued, "We’re not together. I don’t need you living here." The words were harsh, but my defenses were so high. My heart was preparing itself for battle. I felt another layer of wall get built around it from just the mere thought of Justin being so close.

"It’ll be easier for doing baby stuff," Justin said softly, ego clearly bruised, "You’ve gone to an appointment without me already. I wanted to be there."

"It wasn’t that exciting," I lied, "Besides, I got you a damn souvenir. I’ll mail you your sonogram. Express shipping if I have to." Justin sighed into the line.

"Sash, you don’t understand," he pleaded suddenly, "I have to be there. I want to be there. I had the opportunity to be a father once and it fell through…and now I’m getting a second chance to do this. I don’t want to miss a single thing." I closed my eyes to calm my frantic heartbeat. I was sad for Justin now – having loss a child. I love him and I couldn’t deny him at least the right to be around for all baby things, even if it meant I’d have to suffer through him being so close.

"Strictly baby stuff," I reiterated, "No talks of us or any other nonsense."

"I can’t promise you that," Justin said honestly, "I love you too much not to try."

"Don’t say stuff like that," I said, "You should love me enough to leave me alone."

"I can’t," he said, "Sash, my family tried to drag me home to Tennessee. They had an intervention because I’ve been so miserable. I miss you so damn bad. I feel like half of me has died or something…"

I certainly didn’t need to hear that. I didn’t want to know he was miserable. "You don’t get to feel hurt," I said softly, willing myself not to cry again. "I’m the one who got hurt."

"I know…" Justin breathed, "I’m so sorry, Sash. You know I am."

"That doesn’t matter," I sniffled despite myself, "You still cheated." I shook my head in disbelief. I couldn’t imagine in ten million years that I’d actually be having this conversation. As much as I feared this, in the back of my mind I knew that Justin loved me, but now…not so much.

"And I still can’t tell you why," he told me, "I thought that night over a million times and I can’t… I can’t imagine what would possess me to ruin what is the best thing that’s ever happened to me."

"Whatever," I said, feeling myself welling up with emotion, "I don’t care to discuss this anymore. You’re about to be a father and I’m gonna be a mother. That’s our focus."

"I know that," Justin said, "That’s a concern too. I don’t want this kid to grow up in a broken home."

"I grew up in a broken home," I said, "At least you’ll still be around. My father walked out on us."

"I didn’t know that," Justin said.

"You never asked," I retorted, "It doesn’t matter anyway. We don’t have to be together to be good parents. We can be civilized without all the love."

"The love is there though," Justin pointed out.

"Stop arguing with me," I snapped. "If you can’t be here for the child and not try anything, than you can’t come down here."

"I’m gonna be there for the child," Justin relented, "I can respect your need for space as well."

"Good," I said, "Than I guess we can hang up now."

"Sure," Justin said reluctantly, "Should I call you when I land tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" I choked out.

"Too soon?" Justin asked innocently.

"Uh…yeah," I stated in a ‘duh’ tone, "Can we try a week or something?"

"That’s too long," Justin agonized, "Two days."

"You might as well come tomorrow!" I groaned.

"Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow."

"No, that’s not what I’m saying!" I argued.

"Well, that’s too bad, I’m excited," he gushed, "We can get started on building you a nursery with that spare bedroom. That should take some work anyway."

"I don’t believe you," I grumbled. "You’re suppose to be doing whatever I say."

"Fine…" Justin whined, "I’ll see you five days."

"That’s not a week," I told him.

"You said a week, I said two days. Seven days minus two days equals five days. I figured it was a compromise between the two choices." I rolled my eyes.

"That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard," I fumed, "But five is good enough."

"Okay than," he said, "I’ll call you."

"Text," I slipped in, "It’s just… easier when you’re not … talking." He made a noise that was a grunt and a whine combined.

"A text then," he finally agreed, "I’ll see you soon."

"I suppose," I said, lingering on the line for just a moment too long. "Bye."

"Goodbye, Sashy," he said softly before I hung up. I stared at my phone for a moment and took a deep breath.

Five more days.