Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty
Savannah wasn’t quite sure what to make of this as she paced a safe distance from the restaurant, trying to leave herself an out if she needed to save face and just disappear. A sink hole might have been better, but she couldn’t conjure one at will. Running away in shame, though, she was familiar with—so she skulked three storefronts from the entrance.
They had agreed to meet at the restaurant by seven thirty and it was a few minutes to eight. A few minutes normally meant nothing in terms of the wheel of life. But right now each second felt like torture and those tortures were adding up to to one big ball of fear. And it all rested right in her gut where desire should be right now, where happiness should be right now, where joy and, well—not quite love, but at least lust should be residing. Not this pit of despair.
It’s only a few minutes minutes Savannah , it’s only seven minutes Savannah, she said repeatedly to herself. She was over thinking this.