39

"Suit yourself." He mutters under his breath, resigning from the attempt of getting me into his place and closes the door after spending ten whole minutes waiting for me.

I am not ready for this.

For four months, I've self loathed myself; I slept with a stranger, accepted money for sex, lied to him pretending to be someone I'm not, and terminated two pregnancies.

If I go back in, everything I've worked for to be at peace with what I've done will crumble. It will be back to square one, minus the money, or the sex. And the memories, to remember each one of them, that would be the worst of all.

Doesn't matter how I fight it, what he did when we were together, when I was still Abigail Grey, before all the lies and secrets were unveiled, everything he was and every little thing he did is perhaps the quality I wish for a man. The idea of him and the relationship we had when everything was good, my head seems to think that that is the perfect kind if I somehow decide to dive into the datin