Bella's POV:
"Grief. That's what my life has turned into," I said, my voice a soft tremor echoing my inner turmoil. "I went from being a depressed teenage dirtbag who experimented with every single drug she could find at 14. Then I got myself into a rehab where I met a little girl who became my best friend. I got better for her, so she would know she could leave and not die in there like others. She managed to get out, but then she passed away a year and a half ago. The girl I got better for, the reason I fought so hard, passed away. They say you should get better for yourself, but what good is it if you have no one to celebrate your progress with? I mean, I should be proud of myself, and I am, but life sucks, and drugs just numb the pain. I relapsed a lot after she died, but a friend who helped me get better before is helping me again. And thanks to you wonderful people, I feel like my life is getting better and easier. So, I can proudly say I'm six months sober," I declared, my voice growing stronger as I spoke.
I raised my Styrofoam cup, half filled with water, in a toast. The room erupted into cheers, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself a small, genuine smile before retreating back into my protective shell.
I had been attending these meetings since three months after Amari died. Daniel had cunningly tricked me into coming here, promising a late-night coffee. In hindsight, I should have known that no one serves coffee at that hour, but there I was, the naive fool, walking into a coffee shop where they held group therapy. The warmth of acceptance in the room and the shared struggles made it a haven of sorts, a place where I could admit my vulnerability without judgment.
"Mila, care to share?" said Chairperson Grace, her voice gentle yet encouraging. Mila awkwardly glanced around the room, her eyes uncertain, but Grace offered her a warm smile. Mila was one of the most challenged among us. She struggled to stay sober, her longest streak being a mere two weeks. Yet, deep down, I believed in her resilience. Despite her setbacks, I knew she was putting in the effort, and whether she believed it or not, we all knew she'd find her way to recovery.
"Oh, Uhm, okay," Mila stammered, sitting up straighter. She was about to begin her story, but my attention was diverted by a movement near the door, causing me to tune out everything around me. Looking out the window, I spotted Daniel standing outside, waving his phone frantically. I squinted, trying to figure out what he wanted. Despite the strong urge to give him the middle finger for interrupting, I ignored him and turned my focus back to Mila's story.
"So, after that happened, I just kind of felt like I should stop using, but it's hard, you know?" Mila continued, her voice laced with vulnerability. "I've been using since—" Her words came to an abrupt halt as a phone dinged drawing everyone's attention.
"Guys, we all agreed that we would have our phones on silence during group," Grace reminded us, her tone gentle yet firm. A round of nods and murmured agreements passed through the room. This time, I knew it was my phone because my ringtone, 'Unholy' by Sam Smith, blared from where we kept our bags. Closing my eyes, I muttered a curse. When I opened my eyes, I found everyone staring at me.
"I'm so sorry; I'll just... yeah, uhm," I stammered, quickly getting up and rushing over to my purse. Opening it, I found my phone vibrating. Picking it up, I silenced it, my scowl deepening as I read the caller ID. He was a real jerk for calling me right now.
"Uhm, I'm so sorry, but it's the hospital; my mom must have been admitted again," I said, quickly putting my phone back in my purse. I hooked my purse over my arm, turning to face the group, and they gave me apologetic glances.
"Oh, uhm, you can go; we're almost finished here anyway," Grace said, her gaze sympathetic as she looked at the group.
"I'm sorry for cutting you off, Mila," I said with an apologetic smile as I walked past her.
"You did me a favor," Mila grumbled, her tone half-joking, and I couldn't help but smile at her response.
Heading towards the door, I grabbed the handle, making the door hit the little bell on top with a ding as it opened. A cold breeze swept in as soon as I stepped out. Closing the door behind me, I took my gloves out of my purse and put them on, preparing for the chill in the air. I looked around, trying to spot the person who had interrupted our session. Glancing down the street, I found him leaning against his car, seemingly waiting.
Feeling a surge of determination, I took my scarf off, marching purposefully toward him.
Bella POV: "Are you serious? How many times must I tell you to stop coming early?" I asked, frustration lacing my words, my hands instinctively reaching to strangle him with my scarf. But he swiftly snatched it from my grip, his eyes dancing with mischief. In one smooth motion, he tied the scarf around my wrists, leaving enough space to loop it over his head. My hands were now bound behind his neck, and a mischievous smile curled my lips. He had pulled a slick move, and I couldn't help but be impressed. "And how many times must I tell you to keep your scarf on?" he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur as he leaned in, his lips tantalizingly close to mine. "I actually can't remember," I retorted with a cheeky tone, fully aware of the effect I had on him. "Should I slap your ass red again for you to remember?" he growled, his grip tightening around my waist, pulling me closer. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, his proximity electrifying. "God, you're so foul," I teased,
Bella POV: Walking up the stairs, I smiled at the cute guard who opened the door for me. Stepping inside, I couldn't help but notice the emptiness of the house. I seemed to be the only one who brought color into it. Everywhere was dark navy, dark grey, and black. Everything was just so dark. But if you looked closely in the nooks and cracks, you'd find my colorful hairbands hanging on random hooks, my peach-colored slippers next to his Amadeo Testoni shoes, my sugary boxes of cereal next to his plain wheat cereals, my full cream milk next to his almond milk. We were like two peas in a pod. Yippee. Taking off my coat, shoes, gloves, and scarf, I placed them neatly on the hooks by the door. My shoes found their place next to his, and slipping into my slippers, I made my way to the freezer, grabbing a tub of birthday cake ice cream. With a spoon in hand, I suddenly realized how quiet it was. Walking back to the door, I opened it and poked my head out to check if the guard was still th
Bella's POV:Daniel's silence since our fight yesterday cuts deeper than I care to admit. I half-expected him to show up today, maybe to retrieve his car, but instead, he sent one of his men. It's not our first spat, yet this time, the void between us feels heavier, more ominous. It's one thing when I'm the one shutting him out, but when he's the one doing it, I fear I might be losing him.In an attempt to distract myself, I find myself seated in a coffee shop across from Noah, a stranger I hired impulsively. Sometimes, the company of a complete stranger can be the best distraction.The bitter aroma of coffee surrounded us, filling the space with a comforting scent that contrasted sharply with the turmoil in my heart."What exactly do you do, Bell?" Noah asked, his eyes filled with curiosity and something else, something warm that made me feel momentarily at ease."Anything really, but my most treasured job is working at a library," I said, my voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. Pouri
Bella POV: Intrigued by Noah's strange request, I couldn't help but ask, "Prove what exactly?" He scanned the room before turning back to me, his expression unusually serious."I need to prove I have self-control," he said, and I had to bite back a chuckle. My mind raced, wondering what could have led to this bizarre challenge. Deciding to indulge in the unexpected twist of events, I thought, *You know what, let me actually have fun tonight, because it looks like I'm single anyway, so why not be single?*"You know what, fuck it. What do you need me to do?" I asked nonchalantly as he ordered us some drinks. I knew I shouldn't be drinking, but I reasoned that one wouldn't hurt."Just flirt with me, practically, and do whatever is necessary. I just need to prove to them and myself that I have self-control," he explained, downing his forest fire shot. I eyed mine warily, realizing I'd have to take the shot too. Downing it quickly, I smacked the glass back down with determination."Okay,
Bella POV: I walked back to the bar, where I found Noah engaged in what appeared to be a tense conversation with Clyde. The atmosphere crackled with tension, their proximity almost palpable as they stood toe-to-toe. Clyde, slightly taller than Noah, had the advantage, staring down at him with an intensity that matched the gravity of their discussion."If she's watching, then she'll sit in between us," Noah said, his voice laced with a growl."Bella," Clyde called, turning his attention away from Noah to look at me, his eyes conveying a mixture of anticipation and mystery."The show has started," he announced, and I nodded, feeling a blend of confusion and curiosity. I took Clyde's offered arm, and he led me away from the bar. Noah, on my other side, took my hand, and the two men walked me up a grand staircase I hadn't noticed before. We turned left, entering a room that appeared almost full, with at least 30 people seated. The chairs were arranged facing a stage in the middle of the
Bella's POV: As we stood outside the room, reality hit me hard. My cheeks were flushed, and I felt a mix of confusion, embarrassment, and a strange sort of exhilaration. I adjusted my dress, blaming the shots, the women in front of me, and the two men I was sandwiched between for my disheveled state. "Uhm," I managed to say, feeling the need to break the awkward silence that hung between us. Clyde chuckled, glancing at Noah. "Still no self-control," Clyde teased. My eyes widened in realization. This was the person Noah had been talking about. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You're the one that touched her," Noah growled defensively. Clyde chuckled again, seemingly unperturbed. "Self-control has to deal with you being able to watch your partner find their release without you touching yourself and just being content with them finding their release even when you haven't," Clyde explained to Noah, his words laden with a deeper meaning. Something significant passed b
Daniel's POV:"Hey, Daniel, it's me. Please answer my calls. I'm sorry. Can we please talk? Okay, bye."Her voicemail ended. Xavier chuckled, and I rolled my eyes."Is that Bella?" he asked, and I sighed, pocketing my phone. Putting on my boxing gloves, I grabbed the punching bag in front of me.I hadn't cheated; it just looked like I did. I had actually gone to a meeting with Xavier, and some guy was there. There were strippers, and Xavier asked me to just go with the flow, so I did. Now Bella had jumped to conclusions and ruined the perfect thing that we had."Yeah, she's been sending these all week," I said, swinging at the bag. Xavier swung at his bag, and when it swung back, he held it."Shit, what did she do?" he asked, fixing his stance."Remember the new guy I hired, Noah? He quit, and now he's working for her. Last week, they went out on a date. She even came back to her apartment stumbling about," I said, swinging hard. The hinges of the bag squeaked, and I shook my hands.I
Bella POV:"From Daniel," Noah said, handing me the flowers and the slice of cake. He must have seen the confused look on my face."Oh," I said, taking the items. He wasn't here, but at least he remembered. Climbing into the car, Noah closed the door once I was settled in. So, Daniel was capable of sending things to me, but he couldn't answer a simple phone call. And I had left him more than a dozen messages, begging him to call me back."Are you doing anything tonight?" I asked Noah. He started the car and turned to me."Nothing, why?" he asked, and I smiled, opening the window. Taking the card off the bouquet, I saw that it was a pathetic, generic 'well done' card. Feeling a surge of frustration, I threw the card and the bouquet out the window. I dusted my hands and turned to Noah."Stay with me tonight," I said, and he cleared his throat."Oh, um, okay," he said, a small smile spreading on his face."But we need to get some things first from Pyaterochka," I added, and he nodded, sp