Page 182 of The Bet
She might have texted him by mistake. It was a sobering thought. But then again, it might have been her reaching out.
Getting in touch.
Making contact.
Being vague, and not trying to make it mean anything.
It could be any number of a thousand fucking things.
He walked over to the windows and looked out at the park. Most days he could see kids playing, and people walking, some with dogs, some without.
Today, it had to be a couple sitting on one of the benches kissing like they didn’t have a room to rent by the hour.
What he wouldn’t give to be one half of that couple.
What he wouldn’t give to be sitting on that bench with Izzy.
What he wouldn’t give to do things right.
He turned away and looked at her message again.
Should he reply?
Or wait?
Ask her if she had texted him by mistake?
Not ask her anything at all?
Should he thank her?
Try to be funny?
Or sensible?
Orwhat?
He should wait. At the very least, hewouldwait.
He held out for 27 minutes, before sending back a smiley face emoji. And then felt down when she didn’t send a message back.
The next morning he checked his cell phone before he even got out of bed. She still hadn’t replied. So he texted back:
For what? It was great to see you again
She didn’t text at all for the next few days. He checked every 5 minutes. Found himself getting a dopamine hit each time his cell phone pinged with a notification, and then came down from his high whenever it was a message from one of his VAs, or his friends.
It was a text message from Izzy a week later, that slowly got things rolling.
I have an interview for a summer internship at Stone Enterprises
He was smiling when he replied back:
Congrats real happy for you
You deserve it
And he was back to checking his notifications every 5 minutes after that, going on that emotional rollercoaster ride of hearing from her and forcing himself to wait before replying. When she didn’t reply, he waited an entire day before asking the question which had been eating at him for a week, he asked, her:
