The Final Choice

25

I was so sick of thinking that Will was out of my life, for the most part, only for him to pop up and ruin what was supposed to be a fun night. 

"He did, for the most part!" I exclaimed. "He hasn't texted me at all in almost a month. I thought it was finally over." Denise grabbed my phone, before I could stop her.

"Are you kidding me? This stupid little piece of shit. How dare he talk to you like this! he's gonna try to say that you aren't a good mom for finally having a few days to yourself? He's had YEARS! I'm done with this dick, Callie," she said, as her thumbs started flying across my phone. 

"No, Denise, don't," I begged. "It's just gonna start a fight and I wanted to have a good time tonight. Please don't. I'm just gonna ignore him, okay?" She shook her head, angrily. "Nope. Not this time. I don't know why you haven't blocked him yet. And don't say its for Ben, because he has Ben's number too! Which he never uses, by the way. Unless, he's trying to get something out of you."

"Because," I exclaimed, noticing that I was almost yelling right along with her now. "Because why?" she yelled back. "Because...because...I don't have a good answer, D. I'm sorry. I'm always thinking, what if something happens and I need to get in touch with him. But that's not true. I don't know why. Fine. Block him." 

"Yo, what's all the yelling about?" Sam asked, as Katrina opened the door to him. "Are you guys good?" "We're fine," I replied, in clipped words. "Just a little problem that's about to be fixed." I turned back to Denise and held my hand out. "Give me my phone and let's take this out in hall." 

She shook her head, with her thumbs still flying across the screen. It seemed like she had a lot of pent up things that she wanted to say. "We can go out, but you're not getting your phone. Not until I'm finished," she replied. "Whatever," I replied, as we walked out into the hallway. 

"We don't have time for this, D. I still have to do my hair and makeup. Which, I don't know why. I don't see why I'm trying to dress up for people that I will never see again. I can just brush my hair and go like this. Who cares if I wear makeup or not?" I grunted. 

Yes, maybe I was trying to change the subject, just a little, but I didn't want her to be all pissy tonight. It was supposed to be fun. Hell, I wasn't even anxious about it anymore. It seemed like the anger had run the anxiety right out of my mind. 

"Almost done," she said. I sighed and leaned back against the wall, waiting for her to finish whatever she was telling him. "Are you writing a damn book?" I asked, annoyed that it was taking her so long. "Basically," she replied, wryly, before she held my phone out to me. 

"I left the blocking part up to you, but I wanna watch you do it. You don't need to wait for him to reply. I don't care about anything he has to say. Go on then!" she insisted, watching me like a hawk.

"Is everything okay?" Colby asked, surprising me, as he rounded the corner. My mouth dropped open slightly and every thought left my head. Almost every thought. One thing kept going through there, over and over again.

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!!

He was wearing a black button up shirt, with white barbwire designs going up and down it. He had left about three buttons undone, so that I could see the edge of one of his tattoos peeking out, when he moved. Bulky silver chains hung around his neck, laying on top of his muscular chest. His thick chestnut hair was freshly done, to make it look slightly windblown, almost falling over his eyes, but yet, still perfect.

He had paired the shirt with a pair of black jeans, that fit him perfectly. Normally, that wouldn't be considered "dressy" but he made it look so fucking good! The shirt was partially tucked, giving him an "I dressed up, but I'm not trying" kind of look.