EMILY'S POV
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I count as the ceiling fan turns, my eyes following the one blade over and over as it slowly turns. I might lay on this bed forever if I wait for him to come back. If I need to, I will, but the thought of aging here on this bed is gross. My nerves react when I hear the door open, and I could feel the tension in the air as he walks in. I sit up, my hair flinging forward over my shoulders and our eyes lock, and it feels the same like every other time.
"You're back," I offer a small smile, "And you're still here," he deadpans but then bites down on his teeth as he closes his eyes, squeezing them shut tightly as he shakes his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...", "You did," I shrug, "You're mad, and you are allowed to be mad," I breathe out. It's the truth, he wasn't the one w
