Allison's POV
I stood transfixed by Dante's words. Just like that, he had somehow managed to hit me where it hurt the most. I could feel something within me unraveling as the mental wall I had built to block out those painful memories shook and tottered. I could not seem to take my hands away from the door knob. They seemed glued to it. With everything in me, I concentrated on prying my fingers from the knob, but I couldn't. It was foolish of me to think that he had not noticed my peculiar habit of leaving the lights on and how it was connected to my panic attacks.
A part of me knew that he would ask this question sooner or later especially since he had been a witness to my crying episode. I had just hoped that he would not be interested enough to care. I couldn't bare myself to him about this- not now or probably not ever. It was weird even thinking about how to have this conversation with Dante.
Squaring my shoulders, I pushed the door open.
"Stop, Allison," he said.
The teasing
