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Chapter twenty-one
Kennedy
It’s raining again.
I’m honest enough with myself to admit that’s not why I’m still in bed this time.
The moment my eyes opened and I had to think about emerging from Jonathan Granville’s bedroom, I felt too sick to move.
The rain pelts the window and I wish it was pelting my bare skin, washing away every touch my body has ever felt so I could start over fresh.
Misery envelops me, so I draw the blankets closer and burrow in.
Jonathan is still on the other side of the bed. He drifted away from me while we slept. I got my wish and I’m alone, but my chest still feels like caving in the more I wake up. I’m still suffocating. I didn’t escape anything.
Today, there’s a new layer of weight pressing down on me, and this one is almost too much to bear.
What have I done?
I close my eyes and try to breathe through the panic.
Jonathan’s sheets are coarse, not soft like Milo’s.
Milo.
I close my eyes and try to clear out the thoughts, the names, everything. I need to be blank, and I can’t stop my mind from running.
I manage to get my breathing under control again, but the calm is fleeting. The moment I let my guard down, thoughts and fears rush in.
Milo will never be able to look at me again.
He won’t touch me or kiss me or hold me.
He may never speak to me again.
I let his son fuck me last night. He’ll probably want me to leave and never come back.
What have I done?
I’m fighting tears when Jonathan finally makes a noise and starts moving around. He stretches, but I keep my back to him. I don’t need to know what he looks like waking up in the morning. I don’t want to memorize him the way I did Milo.
A broken heart shouldn’t still ache. When will the damn thing give up and stop feeling anything?
Jonathan gets out of bed and walks into his bathroom. He comes back a couple of minutes later.
“You awake over there?”
I nod.
“Are you hungry?”
I shake my head no.
“Thirsty?”
I nod.
“I’m gonna run downstairs. I’ll grab you a bottle of water. You want anything else?”
