Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
When I head back into the bedroom, she’s already on the bed.
I can tell by the thickness in the air that she’s only pretending to be asleep, but I let her have it, stripping down to my boxers and climbing in beside her.
Chapter 33
Alani
I exhausted myself last night, lying next to him for hours before being able to fall asleep. I fought the urge to talk, to tell him how I felt because rejection with those words unspoken seemed so much better than the real rejection of him telling me to leave, knowing how I feel.
It seems the war I fought inside myself didn’t even matter. I know he’s gone before I have the chance to open my eyes and sit up on the side of the bed. The open closet door and the missing duffel is as loud as cannon fire in the small bedroom.
He told me last night this wasn’t his house. I guess I just never imagined he’d leave me here and go home without me.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I can’t think of one moment when he consulted me for anything past asking me yesterday if I wanted a burger and fries. Even then, I think if I had said no, he’d tell me too bad and order exactly that anyway.
As I pull my phone out, I consider the consequences of ordering an Uber. It puts me on record as being here, and considering a man died in this house, that probably isn’t a good thing.
I fire a text off to Ayla for her to come get me instead, hating the million questions I know I’m going to field on the drive back to the house.
Thankfully, I’m returning to college tomorrow. Nash was able to work something out, and they accepted me back. I’ll be on probation because my grades were so terrible last semester, but at least I’ll be able to have some form of independent living.
I don’t bother showering because I don’t have clean clothes to change into. Plus, if it’s the last time I’ll see Donavan, I don’t mind him being on my skin a little while longer.
My anger grows as I sit and wait for Ayla.
Why did he ask me to come with him if he was just going to sneak away in the night like an asshole?
Do I mean so little to him that I didn’t even warrant a simple goodbye?
Did he think I was going to beg him to let me go with him?
He made it very clear what I meant to him in the truck after leaving the office. I knew where I stood as far as he was concerned even before that.
Somehow, even knowing that, his sneaky departure slices at my skin in a very painful way.
I’ve never had a problem with just sex. It’s never been that big of a deal. Hell, I much preferred getting the deed done and moving on.
Yeah, the sex with Donavan is life-altering but there’s something to be said for being up front and honest, rather than using facial expressions and expecting someone to translate those correctly.
Surprisingly, Ayla keeps her mouth shut when I open the passenger side door fifteen minutes later, and she doesn’t speak until she pulls up outside the house.
“You’re not coming in?” I ask when she doesn’t turn off the car or take her seatbelt off.
“I have a meeting.”
She doesn’t offer anything else, and I can’t tell if she’s being secretive. But our relationship still hasn’t completely recovered from her being gone so long, her lies, and then the confessions of what actually happened.
I don’t know if we’ll ever heal completely and get back to how we were before. I don’t know if either of us even want that, honestly. I don’t need a mother, and I’m fairly certain she’s content with not having to be my parent.
I wanted freedom. I wanted to be an adult, but I also never thought it would come at the expense of losing her too.
“I leave for school tomorrow. Did you want to take me or—”
“Nash said you can take the car again. Keys are on the table by the door.”
I nod, my emotions threatening to get clogged in my throat.
“I was going to leave early,” I say.
“My meeting is out of town, but I’ll call you tomorrow evening to make sure you made it there safely.”
“Is there something I should know?”
She shakes her head. “Everything is fine.”
She offers nothing else, and it’s just one more testament to how far we’ve drifted from each other. The old me would point fingers and blame her, but I know I’ve played a huge part in driving that wedge between us.
“I’ll text when I make it,” I tell her and climb out of the car.
The house is tomb quiet, but I’ve grown used to the silence around here.