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39

Joel POV

I hung up the phone, gritting my teeth then pressing the phone roughly to my forehead while trying to keep my composure. But it was useless, my self-control was lost as my muscles tensed and I exploded, throwing the phone across the room leaving it shattered on the floor.

"Fucking bitch!" I yelled at the empty air.

I immediately regretted smashing my phone and it surely didn't make me feel any better. I did feel the need to let out more anger, though and remembered the punching bag that hung up in the makeshift weight pit in the backyard of my apartment building. Thank God for that neighbor who was training to be a mixed martial arts fighter. I look out the window and see him out there, moving what looks like a freestanding body opponent bag (BOB) into his circle of weights and punching bags. I left the room without so much as a glance at the phone to see the damage done, grabbing my ear buds on my way.

I walk outside. The fall air hits my face and while it is still warm,
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