Betty’s POV
The dim glow of a single lamp illuminated Betty’s small rental house as she paced the living room, her bare feet padding across the worn carpet. Her thoughts were a whirlwind, Brent’s words from earlier replaying in her mind with relentless clarity. “I’ve put my heart on the line for you. Now it’s your move.”
She let out a shaky sigh, rubbing her temples. She needed someone to talk to, someone who could help her make sense of the tangle of emotions weighing her down. Her gaze landed on her phone resting on the coffee table, and she hesitated for a moment before picking it up.
Stacey. Stacey would know what to say. She always did.
Betty dialed the number, her fingers trembling slightly as she held the phone to her ear. Each ring seemed to stretch on forever, and just as she was about to hang up, a familiar voice answered—but not the one she expected.
“Stacey’s phone,” Marcus said casually.
Betty froze, the air leaving her lungs. For a moment, she couldn’t find her voice. “Marcus?” she finally managed, her tone laced with confusion. “Why are you—”
“She’s recovering,” Marcus interrupted smoothly. “Her phone was on the bedside table, and I picked it up. Why are you calling?”
Betty’s grip tightened on the phone, her mind scrambling for an answer. “I—uh—wanted to check on her,” she said, the words tumbling out awkwardly. “Is she okay?”
Marcus chuckled softly, a sound that was both familiar and unsettling. “She’s tough. You know that.” There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his tone had softened, carrying an intimacy that sent a jolt through her. “It’s good to hear your voice, Betty.”
Her throat tightened, and a pang of something she couldn’t name shot through her. Guilt, nostalgia, confusion—they all swirled together, threatening to overwhelm her. “I should go,” she said quickly, her voice strained. “Tell Stacey I called.”
“Betty—” Marcus started, his voice low and insistent, but she didn’t let him finish.
She ended the call, dropping the phone onto the couch as though it had burned her. She stood there for a moment, staring at the darkened screen, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
The house felt unbearably quiet, the ticking of the clock on the wall echoing in her ears. Guilt pressed down on her like a weight, mingling with the confusion she had been trying to escape all night. Why did hearing Marcus’s voice still have the power to shake her? Why did it make her heart ache in a way that felt too familiar?
Betty pressed her hands to her face, letting out a frustrated groan. This wasn’t what she needed. She had called Stacey for clarity, for grounding. Instead, she had stumbled headfirst into an emotional minefield she thought she’d left behind.
She sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the phone beside her. The questions she had been wrestling with earlier now seemed more complicated than ever, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop Marcus’s voice from echoing in her mind.