Twenty five

I glanced at the door, sitting on a red, lip shaped couch on the balcony of Ivan's room. Feeling a bit disturbed and uncomfortable, I stood up from the couch, walked to the other side of the large balcony, and leaned my elbows on the handrail. I didn't know why, but I was so terrified. My heart had not beaten this hard in a while.

How could he think of calling me? I thought I had told him not to attempt to do so, as long as I was still married to Ivan. 

After a while of debating with myself on whether or not to pick his call, I took a deep breath, and finally swiped my thumb finger across my phone's screen. Yes, I picked his call. After all, Ivan was busy with his work. He probably wouldn't come here. 

I breathed in. "Hi, Dale. Hi."