You really spruced this place up, huh?

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After completing the intense cleaning, I cracked open a beer and settled onto the couch, hoping to push away the troubling thoughts of everything that had transpired in that space. I jumped when the intercom suddenly rang, prompting me to rush to the window to identify the visitor.

"It's me," Vince announced, clad in his black leather jacket.

I hastened to the intercom and buzzed him in.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, taken aback as he surveyed the now-tidy house. "You really spruced this place up, huh?"

"I did," I confirmed.

"Well... mind if I take a seat?" he asked, sinking into the sofa. "Before we delve into anything else..." With a swift motion, he retrieved a cell phone from his pocket and set it on the coffee table. "You left this at home."

"No, I intentionally left it there," I clarified.

Vince fell into a momentary silence, prompting me to try breaking the tension by explaining, "I don't think it's fair for you to keep covering for this. I feel like I..."

"Could you just take your damn cell phone? At least for a bit," he interjected, his tone expressing frustration. My silence seemed to convey consent, so he moved on to another topic.

"What really happened here that day?" he inquired, his voice filled with concern. "Did he hurt you?" I shook my head in negation. "Are you sure? The aftermath of destruction was pretty intense."

"I just threw whatever I could find at him," I admitted.

"Why did you do that?" he pressed further.

Once again, I found myself at a loss for words. Vince took a deep breath and asked, "Are you going to tell me?"

My continued silence seemed to irritate him. "What a load of crap," he muttered, rising from the sofa. "Damn... And on top of it all, you're giving back your cell phone," he added with a touch of exasperation.

Feeling drained and not in the mood for further discussion, I remained silent as he concluded, "Well, keep the phone. If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me." With that, he departed.

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