AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I figured you might have some new ones here," he nonchalantly responded, failing to even look in my direction as he continued his search.
"Well, why didn't your girlfriend bring extra clothes?" I asked.
"Well, I didn't expect her to stay over that evening!"
"And why did you choose to put your so-called girlfriend in my room?"
"Well, you don't expect me to put her in mom's room, do you?"
"Well, I don't care. Tell her to leave my room this instant!" I exclaimed. Just then, Lily, who had been sleeping in my bed, woke up and stretched, yawning loudly.
"Oh, babe, you're awake!" Kenneth said, abandoning whatever he was doing in my wardrobe and hurrying over to Lily.
"Good morning, babe!" she greeted Kenneth, and they exchanged a long, sweet kiss. Ugh, don't they ever have morning breath? Relationships can be both annoying and repulsive.
"I made breakfast. Would you like me to serve it in bed as well?" Kenneth asked his girlfriend.
"I'd love that," Lily replied, stretching and inadvertently revealing her nipples through the sheer white singlet she was wearing. How on earth did I not notice when Lily snuck into my bed last night?
"Ahem, perhaps the two of you should go to the dining room and have breakfast there," I suggested, trying to sound as composed as possible.
"But Lily prefers it here!" Kenneth defended his girlfriend from the previous night.
"Well, I don't, and she's in my room!" I disapproved.
"Please let her stay here, Skye, just for an hour. She's about to leave soon, okay?" Kenneth pleaded on Lily's behalf.
"Just for an hour?"
"Yes, just for an hour!" he pleaded.
A strangled groan escaped my lips as I fumbled for the lamp, the harsh glare momentarily erasing the phantom scent of Lily's perfume that clung to the room. My fingers brushed against a soft mound – not my pillow, but her discarded sweater, a silent accusation draped across my armchair. My dream of stargazing, of cool air whispering through ancient pines, had morphed into this suffocating reality, the stench of yesterday's confusion clinging to the air.
My eyes darted to the bed, where Lily stirred, a disoriented bird ruffling its feathers in a nest it didn't belong to. My journal, the sacred repository of my thoughts and anxieties, lay sprawled beneath her like a wounded animal. The sight sent a wave of nausea rolling through me. How could she, after everything, be so...unconcerned?
Lily mumbled something about coffee, her voice thick with sleep, oblivious to the storm brewing within me. My tongue tasted like sandpaper, every word sandpapering my throat raw. Yet, silence felt deafening. So, I reached for my haven, my metal armor against the world – the cold, impersonal comfort of rubber gloves.
Each touch was a silent protest, a reclamation of my violated space. I lifted the journal, its leather cover scuffed against the unforgiving floor, the echo of my heartbeat amplifying in the stillness. My bag and phone followed, each object a shard of yesterday's humiliation.
Closing the drawer, the metallic click a resounding punctuation mark, I felt the weight of my gaze settle on Lily's face.
The morning light, unforgiving in its clarity, revealed a canvas far more intricate than the youthful mask she wore. Lines etched around her eyes spoke of laughter and tears, of battles won and scars hidden. My suspicion, that she was older than she seemed, solidified, a bitter truth in the back of my throat.
But that was a battle for another day. The one I faced now was the war within myself, the struggle to reconcile the woman in my bed with the stranger who had trampled my sanctuary. Lily's hand, a hesitant wave, broke the spell, and I tore my gaze away, the scent of her confusion as potent as the anger simmering beneath my skin.
My steps towards the door were measured, each one a deliberate retreat from the chaos within. But at the threshold, I turned, drawn by a morbid curiosity. Lily's eyes, wide and searching, held a question I couldn't decipher. Was it innocence, or was it the mask of someone who knew exactly what she'd done?
Our silence stretched, a chasm I chose to leap across. The words stayed locked within me, a venomous secret waiting to be unleashed. For now, I left the answer hanging in the air, a silent promise scrawled on the walls of my violated space: I wouldn't forget.
"Um, Kenneth, is your power bank turned off?" I inquired.
"Sort of, but two lights are still on!" he responded.
"That's great! Where did you leave it?" I asked.
"I think it's in the kitchen!" he replied.
"Okay, I'll grab it. I need to charge my phone... and please try to hurry with whatever you're doing," I added as I exited the room and headed straight for the kitchen. Relief washed over me when I spotted the power bank on the counter, complete with a black cord already plugged in. I seized it and connected my phone, anxiously waiting for the battery to reach ten percent. My phone's battery was dangerously low, and I desperately needed to see if Tresa had replied. I impatiently awaited any sign of a response.
