Lance.
I walk into his room and he looks up immediately. His eyes are wide, his face is calm but I can tell he is as eager as I am. I sense a hint of confusion on his face—or should I say uncertainty. I don't know where we stand.
We are back to square one.
Taking him out of the hospital is the one thing I would always regret. He might have ended up hating me but he wouldn't have gone through all the things he did. No matter what I think, that was the wrong move and the regrets will always be there.
I walk over to him and he manages a faint smile. The room is quiet and things are a little awkward because I don't know what to say which is weird for me because I always have something to say. I am never one to be in the middle of an awkward silence. I ramble more than I stay quiet but at this moment with him, I want him to make the first move. I want to see where I stand. Does he hate me? is he upset about the whole thing?
