|Humor Me| ::A Michael McIntyre Story::

:: Chapter 1.26 :: {This Could Only Happen To Me}

Michael McIntyre's POV:

It had been an entire week since I had spoken to my Juliet. A very long, snailish, creeping seven days of concern.

Was I supposed to phone her first? Was that how this worked? I had attempted several times to send a text message through.

Yet for some odd reason she never answered them. Had I done something wrong? Was I in way over my own head?

Had I misread the entire subject? That must've been it. She didn't want me. All of the signs were present though!

Was she leading me on to something bigger than I could handle? Was she only joking around? Why am I asking myself so many questions?!

This is absolutely absurd. I need to quit my concern and judgment over something that hasn't even happened yet.

We couldn't possibly just be... over. She would have had the decency and respect to ring me up and at least let me in on it.

I let out a deep sigh, running a hand through my bouncy dark brown hair. I grabbed my mobile out of my trouser pocket.

I had begun to scroll down my contact list to where her name would be placed. Then I retrieved it. <3 Juliet <3

I hadn't changed the name to without the hearts yet, I felt it was a sweet touch and tiny effort she had done to make me feel loved.

At the moment it wasn't as assuring. I had to muster up enough courage to actually get on the phone with her.

I'm a coward. I don't feel like I can do this. It's outrageous. She should have called by now... unless the rules are different these days.

The man is supposed to make the first move of course. That's how it's always been, never anything more or less.

Here I go... slowly inching my thumb towards the 'talk' button. Nearly there... almost touching it... pressing it...

Now.

I held the device up to my ear instantly, waiting a few moments before I could hear the soft dial tone. It was ringing.

What would I say to her? Why am I starting to ask myself things again? Panic strung through my veins as a few moments passed.

"Hello?" a groggy female voice questioned at the other end of the line. And there she was, my beautiful angelic love.

"Hello darling." I stated as cheerfully as I could sound. Perhaps this would lighten the bad mood I assumed her to be in.

There was a long pause and a hesitation after I began to speak. Almost as if she was dissapointed it was me.

"Oh. Hello Michael." she sighed drearily. Oh no... this was most definitely not a good sign. I indeed HAD done something wrong.

But what? Had I pressured her into making love? Was she angry with me for spilling her guts that night? 

I suddenly regretted every single move or action I had made to the young girl. I never meant to hurt her. I just... love her... so much.

"Yes- are you feeling alright?" I raised an eyebrow curiously. I could be over reacting. She might have an illness that's causing her to feel...

Well shall we say 'under the weather.' Again she didn't respond, which caused me to worry. Was she okay?

"I'm peachy, why do you ask?" this answer had taken my by surprise. If she was in perfect condition what was the meaning of this?

"Well you sound... depressed. And you haven't called in a week." I shrugged, even though I was aware she couldn't see it.