Chapter Thirty Three- Not So Perfect Picture

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Heeeeeeeeey guys! You think the update came a little early? xD Oh well. I guess I'm on a roll. :D This is over 3000 words, guys! xD But I couldn't stop myself from typing! This chapter broke my heart lots of times though. </3 

And if you're wondering why I'm updating so fast, it's because classes were cancelled for the past three days and I'm stuck at home with nothing better to do. xD Hope you like this! 

-Kierra XX 

P.S. Anyone remembers Adriana Hughes? xD If you do, then win a virtual Oreo pancake!

Chapter Thirty Three-Not So Perfect Picture

                You could have called me crazy right there and then. You really could have. But as I re-read the Post-it over and over again, I knew that this felt right. And… well, even if it was sort of crazy, it didn’t mean that it was the wrong choice. Sometimes, being crazy seems right, I guess.

                As I hastily took a shower, changed, and grabbed whatever I needed—my purse and (temporary) phone—I tried to think of what to tell Blake. Which, I suppose, should have been my top priority and the hardest thing to do at the moment. After all, he was my boyfriend.

                But it occurred to me as I waited for a cab that it was harder to come up with the right words to tell Cam.

                When I finally got into a cab, I dialed Blake (I have his number memorized, of course).

                He answered by the third ring. “Hey, Shea?

                It felt as if my heart was being constricted. I checked the time with the car’s internal clock—it was half past eleven—before saying, “Hi, Blake.”

                “Yeah. Hi. So, what time—”

                “There’s something I have to tell you,” I said, rushing the words out. My chest felt tighter as my hands started to feel clammy. I bit my lower lip, as I thought of the next thing to say.

                “Um, sure. What’s up?”

                I could hear the exhaustion in his voice. Clearly, he was tired from traveling. My chest felt even tighter.

                “Can we meet? Like, now?” My voice quivered and broke on the last two words.

                “Huh? The appointments I set are not until—”

                I took a deep, shuddering breath just as tears welled up in my eyes. It was so, so painful. He must have heard the unsteadiness in my breathing, because he stopped himself mid-sentence. There was silence.

                Then he said, “Okay. Meet you at DQ?”

                “Yeah. Okay,” I said. “I'm hanging up.”

                “Okay. Love you. Bye,” he said.

                It broke my heart when I ended the call without saying anything back.

                I am so, so sorry.

               

                “I—I don’t understand,” he said, looking at me before letting his eyes drop back on the tiny box he held in his hands.

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