Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
I can’t.
I’ve already ripped the stitches open, so I might as well bleed out properly this time.
“Do you love him?”
She swallows again, runs her fingers on the pad again, avoids eye contact fucking again. “It’s…complicated.”
“There’s nothing complicated about a fucking yes or no question.”
“I need him,” she murmurs.
“So that’s a yes.”
“No! Sebastian, please don’t go there. Take that as if I’m begging you. Please.”
I want to go there. I want her to say the words that will put me out of my fucking misery. Whether they kill me or free me, I’ll at least have some sort of closure. That’s all I needed all this time. That’s what I searched for during all the fights in the bars—a fucking finale.
But maybe I don’t want closure.
Maybe being colorless isn’t so bad, after all.
Or, most probably, this cold is messing up my thinking process.
I lie on my back and she releases a long breath, sniffling.
I close my eyes and soon after, she lies in the nook of my body, her arm wrapping around my shoulder.
It’s tentative, her touch, as if she’s scared of my reaction. And she should be. Why the hell does she keep trying to touch me this intimately even after she broke us to fucking pieces?
I stiffen, but I don’t attempt to peel her off me.
Naomi must’ve taken it differently because she burrows her face in my chest, her breathing shattering against my skyrocketing heartbeat.
“Don’t touch me,” I say without opening my eyes.
“Please let me. Just this once.”
“I said don’t touch me, Naomi. When you do, I picture these fucking hands on him and your face buried in his chest. When you do, I imagine your scent clinging to him and his on you, so don’t fucking touch me with the same hands you touch him with.”
She shakes her head in my chest and I feel the wetness of her tears on my T-shirt as her tiny gasps fill the air. “Just a moment…”
“One condition.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t go back to him.”
“W-what?”
“In the morning, stay here. Don’t fucking go back to him.”
Her leg hooks over mine and she snuggles closer so her whole body is looped around mine.
I turn around and hug her.
For the first time in seven years, I sleep without nightmares of Naomi turning her back on me.
33
Naomi
I go home.
I step on my fucking bleeding heart and leave.
The tears came as soon as I was out of Sebastian’s apartment and they were there during the whole drive home.
But no matter how much my heart begged me to turn around and return, I just jammed the knife in deeper and didn’t listen.
Last night was magical, peaceful, and a little bit painful, too. It was the first time we didn’t have sex, but he’s never been as deep inside me as when he talked to me and hugged me.
He’s never felt as close as he did in that moment.
Everything that happened might not be perfect, but it was ours and I enjoyed every second of it.
But like any magic, there’s a timeframe for the spell to run its course.
I reached that moment.
When Sebastian told me not to go home, I wanted to say yes, I wanted to make a small place in any corner of his life and stay there.
But that’s just the emotional side of me speaking. The logical side that has allowed us to survive all this time is what should be taking the reins.
I stay in my car for a few minutes once I stop in front of Akira’s house. I fix my makeup in an attempt to chase away the puffiness of my eyes.
That damn husband of mine can’t see me at my lowest, not when he makes it his mission to exploit everyone’s weaknesses to drag them down.
I thought I could be in Sebastian’s vicinity, fuck him, be with him while staying married to someone else.
But I was wrong. Utterly and devastatingly so.
I need to somehow turn the tables on Akira so he’ll be forced to let me go.
But that would be as hard as breaking his cool façade. Besides, there’s also the threat of my father and what he’ll do to Mio if I defy him.
And then there’s Kai, but I’m never sure if that sly snake is on my side or if he’s only using me to get in my father’s good graces.
My head hurts.
I step out of the car and remove my shoes at the entrance, then put on my slippers. Instead of going to my room, I make a turn and head to Akira’s.
It could be due to the crying, the sadness, or the need for any semblance of hope. But I have to take a chance and talk to Akira.
Surprisingly, he’s kept to himself about Sebastian. I expected him to threaten and demand he works for him, but it’s been weeks and he hasn’t made an offer yet.