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The food shows up soon. I load up our plates and eat hungrily. My stomach was rumbling. I needed this.

At least there's one thing I can be grateful for to Nox. He taught me how to take care of myself again. All those years I denied myself – for him, for my mother – feel inconsequential now. There's nobody in this world who I'll starve myself for, hurt myself for, again. I'm my priority now. I'm the only one who can take care of myself. And I fully intend on doing that.

"It's good to see you eating," Raphael tells me with a smile.

"This used to be my favorite," I mutter, picking up more noodles with my chopsticks. "Pad Thai. I ate it all the time back in New York."

"Seems like your life was quite different back then."

I swallow thickly. "Very. But I like it better here. And I'm done sulking and feeling sorry for myself."

Robin wouldn't want that.

At the mere thought of my brother, my stomach clenches with guilt and sadness. My appetite is gone in an instant. I put my plate on the coffee table and curl up on the couch, pulling my legs against my body. I want to cry, but I don't want Raphael to know what's wrong.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks when I don't speak for a while.

I'm rarely this honest, but the truth flows from my lips easily this time. "Don't leave me. I need you."

"I won't leave." Raphael sets his plate down too, and brings over a blanket, draping it over my curled-up body. I look up at him, thanking him with a weak smile. "I'll clean up here. You get some rest, Dove, okay? I won't go anywhere, I promise you that."

"Thank you," I whisper. And then sleep is already pulling me under, promising a world of darkness where all my worries are gone, and I can float endlessly in the shadows where nothing can hurt me at all.

***

I don't know how long I'm asleep for. When my eyes fly open, my first instinct is to panic. But then I realize I'm not with Nox anymore. The truth of what happened hits me like a ton of bricks and I groan, burying my face in a pillow.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

I look up, remembering Raphael. Pulling myself into a sitting position, I rub the sleep out of my eyes and manage the weakest smile. "I thought you would've left by now. What's the time?"

"It's seven a.m.," he says. "I promised to stay, didn't I?"

"You didn't have to do that."

"I know I didn't, but I like to keep my promises," he grins. "I cleaned up a bit, changed the sheets on your bed, did the dishes. The house is nice and aired out now."

"Thank you." Somehow, the thought of Raphael going through my things doesn't annoy me as much as I thought it would. He's only trying to help after all.

"When will I see you again, Dove?" he asks.

"I don't know."

"Don't pull away from me." He makes a move to touch me but changes his mind at the last second. "Please. I don't want to lose you. I want to help you. Make you feel better."

"I don't think anyone can do that," I tell him with a sigh.

"Has there been any word from your brother?"

His innocent question threatens to destroy me the moment it leaves his lips. I force myself to remain calm. Not to think about the bloodied hoodie in Nox's motel room.

"No," I manage.

"I could hire a PI," he offers. "Help you figure out what happened.”

"No," I repeat. "Don't."

"Dove, I just want to help," he goes on. "I was worried sick for you."

"I can take care of myself." For the first time, I'm not lying by saying that. I don't need anyone now, not anymore. I'm independent. Perhaps Nox did teach me that. And yet I can never not hate him. Not after what he's done.

"Just promise me you won't disappear again," Raphael says. "I want to stay in touch."

"Yes," I nod. "I'd like that too."

As independent as I want to be, I will still need a friend. I just hope Raphael can accept I'm not ready for anything romantic. Not with anyone. Not after Nox.

"I have to head to work soon," he mutters, checking his phone. "Can I take you out to dinner tonight?"

I ponder his question. Perhaps I should say no, pretend like I don't want his company. But the truth is, I'm eager for someone to be around. Someone who doesn't see me as an object, a sex toy. I want Raphael to be that person. I only hope he can accept I'm not going to be in a relationship with him.

"Yes," I finally say. "But, Raphael..."

"Dove, you don't have to say it." He picks himself up and grins at me. "I'm a big guy, I can see what's happening. I've seen heartache too many times to count. I know what it feels like. Just let me make it better for you. No strings attached."

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