Finally finding the strength to open my eyes and acclimate myself to my surroundings, I realized it was my phone. Bright sunlight filtered through the blinds, and I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, wondering if it was Dara. I’d had trouble falling asleep last night, and while based on the amount of light spilling into my room I knew it wasn’t overly early, I still wasn’t sure what time it actually was. Our wedding was tomorrow, and I was still irked that she’d taken up for her father. When my eyes focused on the number, I knew it wasn’t Dara, but I had a pretty good idea who it was. That alone nearly guaranteed that this was going to be an interesting conversation. I answered the call and hit the record button on my phone. “Hello,” I said angrily, my temper already flaring. “Good morning.” He sounded too perky, and I wanted to ram my hands through the phone and pull him into my room.
