You broke my heart first

　　Ben is still not picking my calls. My mood is not any better as I flip the pancakes. I want to march to his house, pull him by his ear and kiss him after shouting at him for putting me through this stress.

　　I dish the pancakes into two plates and squirt some syrup onto only my plate. Mum likes hers free of any toppings.

　　The bell rings as I set the kettle to boil, Mum’s head pokes into the kitchen. She mouths, “Get the door.”

　　She disappears before my reply. We have been busy sorting out our boxes, some of which we are yet to unpack because no one wants to go through the stress of repacking when it’s time to leave. I grab a carton of fruit juice from the fridge, set it on the tray with the plates I carry to the dining room. I am famished.

　　I need strength for the conversation I will be having with Ben. After breakfast, my next destination is his house. I wrench the door open before the bell rings again and my breath slams into my chest. He came.

　　“Benny.”