She was reading the message over. And over. And over again.

Something inside her slipped, or snapped. Or maybe a switch got turned on. But one thing she knew. There was something changing inside her.

Did she want to confront him?

But whatever for?

It was the past and the past rarely mattered. What mattered was now. The present. And the possible if not plausible future.

Right. Who was she trying to kid.

She read it again and this time her hands trembled and she could feel that slight pin-prick in her eyes.

She was feeling so cold. So empty. So lonely.

Where were they, him, she when she needed them?

The blade sat there in front of her, winking malevolently under the dull glare of the room's lights. It was whispering to her, taunting her to partake in an activity she had forsaken a long time ago.

Too long.

But she cannot make it obvious.

Somewhere, his voice filtered in and out of her consciousness.

Fingers trembled again and suddenly as the phone rang, the blade clatters to the floor.

It was almost symbolic.

"Hello?"

"Hey... What're you doing?"

"Nothing really."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Silence reigned for a moment. She warred with wanting to ask him. The silence was beginning to get to her.

It didn't used to be like this.

"Why're you so quiet?"

"Don't know. Not really in the mood I guess."

"Oh."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. You already are."

She could almost imagine the lop-sided smile upon his visage and the way his eyes crinkled at the corner in mirth. She breathed.

"Why did you have to hide me from her?"

Silence. It was beginning to be a habit.

"Why do you suddenly ask me this?"

"I read."

"Why did you?"

"Answer me."

"Because I didn't want her to be sad. To be broken again."

"And me? You didn't stop to think that I could possibly be sad too?"

"Its not that-"

"Then?"

"Forget it."

"You always do this."

"I don't. Look. Just forget it ok."

Silence. She was biting her lip, fighting back that quelling need to cry. Her fingers trailed the floor, running across a familiar plastic casing. Her eyes flickered downwards.

"Ok. I have to go."

"Yeah, me too."

"Bye."

"Take care."

She wanted to say "whatever" but it was pointless. The lights were switched off and Bach's Air in G was slowly muted to a more serene level.

And in the darkness, the half-silence; she caved in.