No matter how many emails she sent (and she continued to send emails, even after it had become apparent that he wasn’t going to reply) he never said anything to her. He’d speak to Laney briefly in an email, but never to her. It hurt. It hurt the first time and it hurt the fiftieth and the hundredth, and it hurt whenever she thought about it in between. She knew she had broken a promise to him, the promise that she’d be back before he had time to realize that she was gone, that six months really wasn’t that long, but she didn’t see why he had such a negative reaction. People broke promises all the time. If she could have controlled the circumstances, she would have come back, if only to take him and leave again. She had thought that he’d known that. He had to know that. She’d said it so many times, over and over and over again, that there was no way he didn’t know. “How angry is he with me?” Michael turned back to her, cocking a pierced eyebrow in her direction, “do you really want to know?” “No,” she sighed, “no, I really don’t.”
The Long, Long Journey Home, jetblackhearts