Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss. I’ve never seen such packages. Besides, you already directed all your packages to your new address.”
“There were boxes.” My voice rises as my hold tightens around the phone. “I received the first one two months ago and the last one came yesterday.”
“I didn’t see you yesterday, Miss. I took the day off for my dentist appointment.”
No, no, no…
“Stop playing with me, Paul.” My voice is brittle, but it’s also on the verge of breaking all hell loose.
“Excuse me, Miss?”
Jonathan takes the phone from my fingers, even as I try to fight for its possession. “Thank you.”
Two words. Two mere words and then he hangs up. His gaze trails up to my face as if I’m an injured animal on its death bed.
“Stop looking at me like that.” My voice cracks.
“Like what?”
“Like you think I’m insane. I’m not.”
“All right.”
“I am not. I received those packages.”
“Okay.”
“Stop it.” I hit his chest. “Stop it! Stop it! I’m not crazy, okay?”
Jonathan prisons both my hands against his chest, stopping my tantrum. They lie limp in his hold, exhaustion and confusion rearing at my nerve endings.
“You need rest, Aurora. You haven’t slept properly in two days.”
He stands up and reaches for me, and I pull back, leaning on my hands.
“You’ll aggravate your wound.” He places one hand on my back and the other underneath my legs and carries me in his arms.
I don’t fight. I feel like if I do, I’ll really be labelled crazy.
And I’m not. I had those vocal messages from Alicia. I don’t care what Jonathan or anyone else says about it.
He quickly crosses the distance between my room and his upstairs. The entire time, I keep watching his face, the way that line remains between his brows.
God damn that line. Why the fuck isn’t it disappearing?
Jonathan places me on his bed, then softly pulls the cover to my chin.
But he doesn’t join me. He doesn’t even attempt to. And the realisation that he won’t share a bed with me slices me deeper than I’d like to admit.
“Sleep, Aurora.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“I never said you were.”
“But you believe it. You’re thinking about it right now. I can tell.” I clamp my lips shut to not spout all the nonsense my brain is bubbling with. That will make my case harder, not easier.
“We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Where are you going?”
“I need to make some work calls.”
Work calls, my arse. More like he’s avoiding me. He won’t even look at me like before anymore, will he?
Refusing to think about that, I direct my thoughts to something else.
“I want Layla.” I jut my chin. “You said I could get out and meet whomever I want.”
“She’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.” He reaches a hand, which usually means he’ll stroke a stray hair off my face, but instead, he readjusts the cover, not attempting to touch me. Then he retracts his hand and leaves.
As the door closes behind him with finality, a tear slides down my cheek.
I am not crazy.
12
Aurora
She’s like Alicia.
Just like Alicia.
Do you remember when she used to make things up?
It’s not only a resemblance in their features. They must’ve inherited the wrong genes from their mother.
The voices collapse and blend together. I think I can catch them, but the moment I reach out a hand, I fall.
Down.
Down…
I jerk awake, sweat covering my skin. For a second, I can’t figure out where I am, but then, soon enough, the familiar sensual scent fills my nostrils. Woodsy and airy. A strange sense of peace envelops me like a cocoon.
Jonathan’s room. It’s dark since the curtains are drawn, but I can feel it without having to search hard.
I vaguely recall strong arms wrapping around me from behind in the middle of the night. Or was that also a play of my imagination?
My breathing turns harsh and shallow as I recall what happened last night and the way Jonathan looked at me.
Why did he look at me like that?
I feel like I’ll be old and grey and I’ll never forget the disappointment in his eyes, and was it also…disgust?
The door barges open, and I squint as the light in the hallway hits me.
“Your knight in shining armour is here, mate!”
I smile despite myself at Layla’s voice. I’ve never been so happy to see her in my life as I am this moment.
She’s wearing baggy trousers and a hoodie on which is written, If You’re Happy and You Know It, Stay Away. Her expression plummets when she focuses on me. “What happened to your palms and lip?”
“I fell.”
“F that. It was Johnny, wasn’t it? I’m going to sue his arse. I’m dragging that dictator into court.”
“It wasn’t him.”
She narrows her eyes, slowly approaching me. “Are you protecting him or something?”
“Why would I do that? Now, come here. I missed you.”