Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I took a breath and started with my blurt of an explanation, but she hissed at me to shush and gestured on through to the dining room, through the double doors. And there he was.
Sebastian.
Laughing with my dad, while my dad patted him on the back.
Holy fucking crap.
I hadn’t seen Sebastian in weeks, and my stomach tumbled when I saw him smiling over at me, and I didn’t want it. I didn’t want even a hint of him on my criminal Sunday, bad on top of bad.
I bit my tongue as we sat at the table to eat our Sunday roast, and every mouthful was hard as I battled to keep my nerves in check. And there it started.
Make sure you go steady with your chicken, Anna. Did you sleep last night? Make sure you drink enough water, you don’t want to bring on a seizure. Don’t want to bring on a seizure. Don’t want to bring on a seizure.
Underneath the thin smiles and overflow of instructions to take care of myself, there was such a thrum of disapproval and rage it raced my heart in my chest. In some ways I was glad Sebastian was there smirking across at me, just to stop the explosion from Mum and Dad, but the line of crap was still pretty tight between the two.
I made sure to leave before he did, bailing out with a happy fake goodbye while they scowled and said I should stay. I used Nicola as a welcome excuse, and air kissed Sebastian from as great a distance as possible before giving my parents a hug and saying I’d be back to see them soon.
And then I bailed.
I dashed back to my apartment after giving a no need, thanks to Dad when he offered me a lift, and I took advantage of the walk. Another little burst of calm in the storm.
Time for round three.
I was braced in my living room when Nicola knocked at the door. I was already through three of my cigarettes with the stink disguised by mouthwash and plenty of perfume when she headed on through to the sofa with me, and her expression was so dark it was scary.
But still, she held it back.
I must have been visibly surprised when she held it back.
“Talk to me,” she said. “What the fucking hell is going on with you, Anna?”
I wasn’t expecting anything like a scrap of calm from her.
So, I was honest.
As honest as I dared to be.
I told her it had started as a one-off and was never meant to be anything more. I told her that Lucas and I always got on crazy well, and I was enjoying seeing him, even though it was carnage, and I knew it.
I told her that I was feeling the glow of life around him and was taking advantage of it for all it was worth. And it was good. Really good.
I held back that I loved him, and that I would give anything for another chance in his world, because there is only so much someone can take when they are in poor Nicola’s shoes and want to slice right through Lucas with a chainsaw. And still she was calmer than I expected, clearing her throat before she came back with a response.
I realised all over again in that moment just how much I loved Nicola Henshaw, and how come she had always been my best friend.
“Don’t hide back the obvious, Anna. I know you love him,” she told me. “I know you always have, and I think it’s bullshit, and I hate his fucking guts, and I’m praying you’ll come to your senses if you just give yourself a chance to see reason.”
She had optimism I didn’t, that was for sure, but still I heard out her logic.
She leaned on over and squeezed my knee, and her eyes were bursting with sympathy and worry and the wish that I’d sort my fucking life out. And it was harder that way. Harder than her screaming at me, because there was more guilt to feel from her support than her rage.
“You need more of a life,” she said. “You walked out on Sebastian because you think he held you back somehow, so just bloody think about it. All you’ve done since rushing out on him is work, work, work and stay holed up in this place.”
She had a point. I hadn’t exactly thrown myself into socials, not outside of finding randoms to attempt to give me an orgasm and the odd night out with work friends. Fear, I guess. That constant concern of having a seizure out amongst a load of people having a good time, and trashing a hole in the middle of their fun.
That and not being able to drink while they were downing plenty.