I ride for a while, before I get a call.
From her. I'm tempted to ignore it. But what if she needs me?
So I pick up.
“Get back here,” She orders, immediately.
I bite my lip. “I've decided to go out separate ways—”
“I said, get back here,” She repeated sternly. “And get back here quick.”
Sighing, I mash the accelerator. “I don't think—”
“You told me you would do anything I wanted. You said you would belong to me. Did you lie?”
“No, but—”
“Then come back here, now. Stop whatever you're doing, and come to me. I need you.”
And do you know what I do?
I turn around. I turn around I drive back toward her.
“I'll be there a day,” I rasps.
She sighs. “Hurry up. I need you now. Why did you leave without my permission anyway? And for a week.”
I sigh. “I'm... I'm sorry, Wendy. I'll be bac
