I’m tired at this point.
Since I came back, my phone has been blowing up. But I never check the messages, neither from my father nor fromJulian.
They should probably worry me. With the amount of effort they’ve put into trying to reach me.
Yet I find I don’t care anymore.
But I have another problem. The holidays are approaching. The calendar shows December, and no matter how much I wish otherwise, I can’t escape what that means.
Going home.
Home.
As if.
And then there’s Hunter and I—
I swallow. There isn’t a Hunter and I.
My mind is quick to remind me of that every time my heart forgets.
He’s been avoiding me, which he has every right to do. And if I’m honest, I’ve been avoiding him too.
In class, he doesn’t even look in my direction.
It’s such a contrast to how things were before those damned Thanksgiving holidays.
If we happen to share a table with our friends at mealtimes, he makes a point of never meeting my eyes.
And if I’m completely honest, that worries me.
Because he was so adamant about me being his that this sudden retreat feels wrong.
It feels like he’s up to something.
Or perhaps he’s finally realised I’m not worth the hassle.
The truth is, I’m not.
I can’t escape my marriage.
And as much as he wants to fight it, it’s impossible.
It might take him time, but eventually he’ll see it too.
We’re impossible.
Doomed from the start.
Forbidden.
A scream erupts from the television, dragging me back to the present.
I glance at Eleanor again, but she might as well be a ghost.
She hasn’t said much since knocking on my door other than, “I can’t be alone with my thoughts right now, and you’re the safest option.”
By that, she meant I wouldn’t talk much or ask questions.
