It’s been two weeks since my dad became the prime suspect in the Gina Lorne’s case. One week since I’ve seen Sabastian.
We spent the day together after my dad made bail. I enjoyed it as one would pleasurable chaos.
sharing glances of heated history,
while quietening with still very open wounds and it all felt natural.
But I didn’t forget, I didn’t drop my shields I had built around myself ,
a protection against my curse, a protection against Sebastian Delroy and his binding touch.
Sabastian dropped me at home that same day, and it was three days after that when I saw him again.
It was the day him, Jace Stone and my brother finally moved into the monstrosity across the road from my house.
As a good sister and friend I offered to help unpack. We didn’t finish until late the next morning. It was four days after that when the schools communications app sent out messages of the house party Jace was throwing.
Jace was Reagan’s cousin so I wasn’t surprised my boyfriend insisted we go and it was definitely a party to remember.
Sabastian spent that night hounded by beautiful women and eventually left to his room with Ashley Herne. I can’t say I was okay with that but I didn’t really get a choice in the matter.
To Sabastian, I was the biggest fraud, I was sleeping with his friend. Recently I wasn’t sure how much of friends Reagan and Sabastian actually were.
Watching him go to his room with Ashley ripped my heart but also angered me, stealing something away from me, knowing that he was upstairs touching another girl.
It took everything in me to not run upstairs and disrupt them. However, it was a firm reminder that Sabastian wasn’t mine.
As for Reagan and I? There is a common phrase , hurt me with the truth, never comfort me with a lie. It seems to be a constant reminder of failures in my relationship with Reagan.
Every morning I look at him , every morning I smile a lie of deceitful intent. I used to crave just having his hands on me, but even that too has become tainted.
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