My life, which was once so neatly arranged, so ruthlessly tiny hands, was quickly spiraling out of control, and I, the master of control, almost had no control over it. I clenched my jaw and redialed. The fucker finally picked up after what felt like the hundredth call.
"You could pass for a certified asshole, you know that, right?" I snapped the moment Norlan answered.
He just laughed. "Yeah… I recognize that tone. Dude's pissed." Norlan's laugh grated on my nerves. "Go on," he drawled. "Spit it out. What's got your panties in a twist?"
I exhaled sharply. "I picked a date."
A beat of silence followed. Then, "For what? Your funeral?"
I didn't answer. He was sharp. He'd figure it out.
Another pause, and then a low, knowing hum. "No fucking way."
"Yeah." I tilted my head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling of the car like it could somehow save me. "The engagement is set for the 23rd."
