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My Perfect Mess
Four times…
Four times it took me to stop myself from sending Isabella a message.
I cannot stop thinking about what she must be going through. My damn heart bleeds so much for her.
But what makes me bleed even more is knowing that he is there; he is holding her the way that I am supposed to be holding her.
Why did things turn into such a fucking mess?
Maybe just once.
Maybe if I just speak to her once, then I will feel better.
Maybe just once.
So for the fifth time, as little as in four hours, I pull my cellphone from my pocket. I look over the camp that is still, and without causing much of a notice, I walk to the very tree where I feel I can just be myself and let my heart go.
As I sit down, I play all the reasons in my head why I should not be doing this. What if James is with her? What if she does not want to speak to me?
I just want to know if she is okay.
So I swipe up and find her number. In n
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