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The SMS Connect phone is plugged in on the little desk in the corner of my room. Call me pathetic but I couldn’t just leave it in D.C.. Then when the renewal reminder came through for this month I couldn’t get myself to shut it down. I never got a notice that DCFox had returned his. I wasn’t going to quit until he did.With everything crumbling that little gray rectangle represented hope.

That hope starts jumping on a trampoline in my stomach.

It feels like I’m tempting fate with each step.

I’m one step away when the thought that he could be ending it in the message hits. Time freezes but then the little light at the top flashes red.

A promise?

Or a warning?

With trembling fingers I unplug the phone and bring it with me back into bed. I reach up and turn off the light before opening the messages.

As I read, a tear rolls down my cheek. For a moment, instead of focusing on his words, I focus on how my tear starts out hot when it first leaks out of the corner of my eye and by the time it drops to my chest it’s cold. With no one to catch my tears they turn icy as they fall. This thought makes the tears fall faster and I slide down to my side and curl into my pillow.

I think back to the last time I was with Austin. The way he was there to wipe my cheek, catch the tears, and kiss me. Kiss me like I was all he needed.

Please.

That one word was all I needed to hear. But where did that leave me?

After the tears slow, I roll to my back and stare up at my ceiling like the answers I’m looking for will appear.

You're still the best woman I've ever had the pleasure to know and I hope that I have the chance to know you even better.

Why couldn’t he have ended it? That would have been easier.

Eventually I close my eyes because I’m tired of trying to find solutions in the dark. As I drift to sleep the questions keep coming.

Do I want to keep talking with him?

Can I trust him?

Why didn’t he tell me where he was?

What is he hiding?

What if I get burned again?

Am I willing to take the risk?

CHAPTER 25

What am I missing?

AUSTIN

Elle and I are watching the Renegades away game when my phone rings. I slide it out of my pocket and see Kevin’s name on the caller ID.

“Hey Kev, what’s going on?” I ask.

“We’re fucked, that’s what’s going on,” Kevin nearly screams.

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean?”

“Turn on CNN,” he says and a bowling ball hits me in the gut. This can’t be good.

“Elle, hand me the remote,” I demand and she looks at me with wide eyes.