Bianca's cold expression dropped into a glare as she turned back to look at Bertram, "Excuse me? You said you wanted time, so I've been giving you time! I haven't---split."
The word hit her hard but Bianca forced herself to seemingly remain unaffected by it. She hadn't split. She had just---been going on with her life while he figured out his. Was that the wrong thing to do? She should have been more forceful with helping Bertram out even though he'd asked her for time? Did time equal space? Why was this turning into some crazy confusing formula?
Bianca uncrossed her legs and planted her shoes into the ground. Her feet were killing her, but Mira and her mother had insisted that she needed to wear heels and not completely succumb to being comfortable in her present state. Such lovely family, she had.
"You didn't want to talk to me, so I didn't make you talk," Bianca snapped, shaking her head, "You didn't want my help so I figured you were trying to get your act together by yourself."
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