Jizzie | Hand on Heart

Chapter 42 | Fall with me?

8 hours later.

8 hours of hysterical crying.

8 hours of pounding hearts.

8 hours of excruciatingly awkward silences.

But when that 8 hours was up.

I was free.

Free from the burden of my lies.

Free from the shackles my life had placed on me.

I'd told Joel everything.

With a minor break when we arrived home as I had to lug my stuff inside and get settled

8 hours seems like a lot, but most of it was spent crying.

From both Joel and I.

The story itself only took around 2 hours, the remainder that wasn't crying, was spent talking through everything.

It felt like a weight off my soul.

This fight was far from over, but I had hope, hope for something better.

I had no idea when that was, but it helped me push on.

The bright light at the end of the tunnel finally felt within reach.

I wipe my eyes with my sleeve, my head resting on Joels lap as he played with my hair, humming softly.

My fingers knot my shirt as I let out a content sigh, perfectly happy to forget about all my problems to love in this one moment.

Sadly all good things come to an end.

And my rude awakening comes in the form of my phone almost vibrating off the coffee table.

I reach forward and see Sebastians name on the screen, share a frustrated glance with Joel, before I answer it.

"Hello?"

"Oh. Lizzie?"

I raise my eyebrows, "you called me, who else would it be."

"Nothing I just thought." He pauses, and I hear a voice in the background, a feminine voice, "when did your plane land." I hear him swallow.

Between him and Carlisle I am seriously considering throwing my phone away.

Speaking of Carlisle I definitely needed to figure out what the hell was going on with him.

"I missed my first flight, and I got in this morning at about 10."

"Oh you- you missed your flight?"

"That's what I said."

"That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Nothing!" His voice raises and I hold the phone away at the sudden noise.

"Not that this isn't a highly enjoyable conversation. But I told you, I don't want to speak to you anymore."

"Yeah. Sorry, I just..." he trails off.

"Sebastian whats going on?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all!" The squeaky pitch shows that he's lying.

I'm about to press him further, but I decide that I simply don't care anymore, "okay, well I'm going to go now. And please, don't call me again."

"Oh don't worry. I won't."

Then he ends it.

I lower the phone, staring at it in confusion.

His parting words echo in my brain.