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Growl
Bridget I paced back and forth in the sitting room, the weight of frustration growing heavier with every unanswered ring. My fingers were practically glued to my phone as I redialed his number, again and again. Each time, the monotony of the ringing tone grated on my nerves until I could barely think straight. “Come on, pick up!” I muttered under my breath, clenching the phone so hard I thought it might snap. When the call went to voicemail for the fifth time, anger boiled over, and without thinking, I hurled the phone toward the door. It hit with a loud thunk, the sound echoing through the room as I breathed heavily, my chest heaving with a mix of worry and rage. And then, I heard it—the distinct crunch of tires on gravel outside. I froze, the sound dragging me out of my spiral of ang
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