I could?—
My gaze flicks toward the hallway.
Toward my office.
My stomach flips over and my noodles try to make a comeback.
Nope.
No, no, no.
If I could disappear into the couch, I would.Instead, I tuck my legs under me.I am not doing this.
I am not thinking about that god forsaken envelope.
It’s been sitting in my desk drawer for over ayearnow, untouched.
For good reason.
It doesn’tmatter.It’s just another attempt to make me feel bad for poor old Joel.Misunderstood musician.
Whatever bullshit is inside, it won’t change anything.
I cross my arms, planting myself firmly on the couch.
I’m not opening it.
I don’t care what it says.
I don’t.
My eyes drifted to the television.The drama is still playing, but I’m not watching it anymore.
My fingers tap against the blanket, restless.
My knees bounce.
I exhale slowly, trying to force my body to settle.Of course, it doesn’t.
My eyes flick to the hallway again.
Damn it.
Just forget about it, Anna.Nothing has changed,
I reach for my drink, take a slow sip, then set it down.
A beat passes, then I reach for the remote, pressing pause.
I mean, I could just read it.
Not because I care—but because it’s unfinished business.
I hate unfinished business.
And if I read it—if I finally open the stupid thing—then maybe I can stop thinking about it.Besides, knowledge is power right?
Maybe I can shove it back in his face later.