The words hung in the air, trembling with longing, and the silence that followed was deafening. Her heart pounded, each beat a desperate wish that he would say something—anything—to break the unbearable tension.
She clutched the edge of the phone, her knuckles turning white, hoping that the courage she managed to gain hadn't been in vain.
And then he finally decided to speak, to break the silence between them.
"Where are you, Zane?" he asked, his tone softening with urgency.
Zara placed her head on the counter, the phone still pressed to her ear, as she demanded, "Will you come and get me if I tell you?"
"Where are you, Zane?" he asked again, his tone soft but laced with urgency as if every second of her silence sliced away at his patience.
Zara rested her head against the cool surface of the counter, her exhaustion evident in the way her shoulders slumped. The phone remained pressed to her ear, her voice barely above a whisper.
