Only One Half of the Conversation

Darcy picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Jose shifted uncomfortably on the chair. He hated it when she took calls during their time together.

She made a pleading face, mouthing I'm sorry.

"Is this an emergency?" she asked the caller.

Jose squirmed on the chair, its leather warmed by his being there so long. He heard a car drive by on the street outside.

"Do you want to hurt yourself?" Darcy asked, her voice tightening as her hand curled into a fist on her lap.

Jose removed his glasses and massaged the indentations they left on his nose.

"Okay, I'll be right there." Darcy dropped the phone on the couch. 

Jose put his glasses back on.

"Is this the patient you were telling me about?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I have to go," she replied, picking back up her phone.

"I understand, Darcy, you know I do. But you're never going to make progress if you keep leaving our sessions after ten minutes." Jose gestured at the clock with his clipboard of notes.

Darcy stared at him blankly then stood to leave, buzzing for the nurse outside to open the door.

I wrote this in response to an assignment in a fiction dialogue workshop I took this morning. You were supposed to write a scene in which a character only gets one half of a phone conversation.