The cellphone wasn't large, quite small, fitting in her palm.
Yet, she could hardly lift her hand.
"Why should I call him?" she felt a bit like laughing, looking up at Maple Swallow, "Why don't you call him yourself?"
"You know why," his voice was very calm, "It's best if you make the call. You should know this better than anyone."
She really loathed this man's assurance of his winning hand.
"You want him to hate me. You want him to give up on me?" she laughed out loud, "Don't you think that's too much? What did I do wrong? Why should I be the one to make this call?"
Maple Swallow stood before her, gazing at her, his eyes piercing through hers that were vaguely tearful, as if seeing through her soul: "Because you love him."
Her grip on the phone tightened suddenly.
