One More Chance (3)

“Where’ve you been Brody, it’s the middle of the day?” I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I’ve been at the hospital. Didn’t we agree to respect each other’s space? Ye cannae show up here unannounced.”

“I wanted to see ye. I’ve called your phone a hundred times! You could’ve at least picked up.”

“I don’t feel like arguing with you Annabelle. I’m tired, let me rest.”

“Are you still upset with me? Is that why you’re pushing me away?”

“I’m not upset and  I’m not pushing ye away. Just let me get some sleep.”

“McGregor?!”

“What is it Annabelle?”

“Why were ye at the hospital?”

“To see a friend. I’d recently found out she’s sick so I went to visit her.”

“How long have you known her?”

“Seriously Annabelle! I’m not going to do this with ye. Go home.”

“Nah, I willna go!”

“Stop acting this way. Didn’t ye hear me say she’s sick? When have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

“I never said I didn’t trust ye.”

“Ye implied.”

“I know I was wrong when I said what I said, but you’re never here when I need you.”

“At is a lie an’ ye ken it. What more do you want from me Annabelle?!”

“I want us.”

“Bull! I asked ye to marry me and ye said no. Figure out what ye want and contact me then.”

“McGregor! Don’t walk away!”

Shoving passed her, he climbed the stairs to his cabin, entered and slammed the door with a thud. He wasn’t the one walking away. Annabelle didn’t think he knew her secret, what she’d done behind his back, repeatedly. Knowing how things were going to end, he let her stew with guilt and worry until she came clean with him.

Passing a window, Annabelle was still in view so he pulled his blinds to shut her out and sank into his couch. He didn’t have time, wouldn’t make time for her childish games, he still had a job to do and a friend to stay beside. Rachel had never disappointed him. He’d known her to be kind and resilient, giving and he wanted to return the favor. But for now he had to grade papers and review his lecture notes.

So he begrudgingly pushed himself from the couch, headed into his small kitchen to fill a kettle with water for coffee and whipped up batter for Madeleines. At least he’d find some comfort in this.

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