Abigail sat on the edge of her bed, surrounded by the soft glow of the night lamp. The pale light cast long shadows across the walls. She held her phone loosely in her hand, her thumb absently tracing patterns on the screen.
'Is he still angry at me?' She wondered to herself.
Her eyes drifted toward the window. Abigail's thoughts turned inward. She couldn't stop replaying the day's events, reliving the quarrel that had left her sad and bewildered. She had acted impulsively, driven by her anger. But now she realized that she had only pushed Christopher further away.
Tears welled up at the corners of her eyes, threatening to overflow. Abigail bit her lip, trying to hold them back. She didn't want to seem weak or vulnerable, especially not in front of Christopher. But the more she tried to fight them off, the harder they fell.
Ring-Ring-Ring…
