Ring, damn you, Jim cursed silently, staring at the cordless handset of the phone sitting on his bedside table. Ring.
He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. Blair had promised to call when he made his decision. When he knew something. He promised that Jim would be the first to know. Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the way Blair had taught him. But what would Jim know?
Would he know that Blair was coming home?
Would Blair know that this was his home?
Would Blair know that no matter what his decision, Jim would be all right with it? That Jim would agree that it was the best thing for Blair? And that the best thing for Blair was the best thing for Jim?
Or, would Blair decide that he'd had it with Jim and that it was time for him to move on? That his mother was right? That Jim was nothing but an albatross tied around Blair's neck, holding him down? Forcing him to stay in one place? Because, to Jim, home was Cascade. And, to Blair, Cascade was cold, and wet and...
Jim jerked and rolled to his side, glaring at the phone. Oh, fuck. This was it. This was the call.
This was Blair. Jim knew it. He didn't need any caller I.D. to tell him who was on the other end of the line. This was Blair.
This was Jim's future.
Jim picked up the phone and pressed TALK before the answering machine could pick up.
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