Strained sounds echo through the bathroom. Michael’s knuckles pale as he grips the edges of the toilet tighter, wretching out the bile in his throat. I rub my palm in circles over his back and heave out a breath.“There… let it all out,” I mutter.Michael slaps my hand away as he staggers up on his feet and flushes the toilet, stumbling to the sink to wash his mouth. I exhale a tired breath. “I know it must be frustrating—”“You think?” His voice is snarky.I clench my teeth, already exhausted with Michael’s crankiness since his recovery. We’re still in the hospital, soon to be discharged, but the doctor said he’ll need to be here for a few more days for monitoring because of the alcohol in his system and how it might affect him.Let me tell you this: There have been effects, lots of it.This is another version of Michael that I didn’t know existed. And I’m fighting every nerve in my body not to hate him, I’m trying so hard to be understanding that this behavior of his isn’t really w
A few more days at the hospital wouldn’t kill anyone, would it?The normal would be: it wouldn’t. But with a man like Michael who operates very differently from the rest of us in ways that makes us seem like the lesser beings, a few days in the hospital ripped him apart.He became more cranky. Not to me though, the man now fears me and is very careful with what he says or how he acts around me.However, every other person has been a beneficiary of his very nasty behavior. Sometimes, I’m forced to believe he does it on purpose just to get on their nerves. Caleb especially.I’ve noticed that apart from my father, Michael has no other friends. My father is hardly his friend anyway. But then Caleb? They share a special kind of bond.I’ll ask questions, but not now.Maybe when Michael has fully recovered, or probably when he decides to stop being so fucking annoying about his wet hair.“Michael, stop it!” I laugh, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. Michael is already straddling me on
The drive is quiet. It’s not awkward, just utterly silent with Michael’s fingers laced through mine and his thumb stroking the back of my palm.For me? I’m content, yet curiosity is starting to take the reins. I want to ask what he meant when he said the main business happens underground at the hospital. And I’m starting to regret why I told him to keep that side of his business to himself.But thinking about it, do I really want to know? I might love Michael, I might want to be with him, but the fear is still there, the uncertainty for what the future holds for us. If I learn more about his business or anything he’s involved in, then what? More fear?Resentment?What happens to our relationship?So it’s better I don’t know. I’ll rather remain in the dark than ruin a beautiful thing.Hopefully, this is my beautiful thing…“What’s going through my girl’s mind?” Michael asks.I respond with a roll of my eyes, leaning back into the seat, but I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. H
Something wet lands on my face and I let out a soft groan, tucking myself tighter into the soft sheets.I’m dreaming. The dream feels vivid as fuck and it’s making me elicit all kinds of sound. Fingers knead my skin. Wetness curls around my face. Warmth surrounds me. And I feel a throbbing sensation in my core. “Fuck…” my voice is low, and I think I’m talking while sleeping.“Baby,” a whisper crawls into my ears and I whimper, trying to turn the other way. Something holds me back… down. A weight settles between my legs and I feel warm breaths on my face, lips brushing mine. I pry my eyes open just as soft lips fuse with mine, moving with slow, desperate passion. It takes me a full second to realize this is not a fucking dream. Michael is kissing me, and I’m kissing him back with the same desperation.His cock presses into my center, and I moan, thankful for the short that’s acting as a barrier between us. Michael’s hands knead my skin, holding me so tight to himself like I might
The door shuts.My legs shake underneath me.My heart stutters.And my mind echoes with self-destructive thoughts, thoughts I’m unable to properly comprehend at this moment.I stand there, still, staring into space, skin burning from both confusion, and guilt and shame, and the feel of her lips on my skin as she kissed me on the cheek.My hands, the ones that roamed her body while I begged her desperately not just for sex, but for her trust, are limp at my sides, my muscles twitching with the need to punch something, maybe punch myself in the face for ruining a good thing.I blink, but I’m unable to see for a moment.I inhale, but the air isn’t enough. As though there’s none at all, as though Adaline’s absence has taken the air from my lungs. My chest tightens with a weight and I almost stumble.Fuck.I knew this would happen.I knew it the moment her gaze faltered on me and a loud gulp pushed down her throat. My Adaline is slipping away from me. She’s sinking deep into fear and it
“A hotel? Really, Kate?”I roll my eyes as I step into the room—the VIP room Kate booked for this impromptu meeting of ours. “Happy to see you too after such a long time,” she tells me, voice sarcastic. I throw my back on the single-sitter cushion and take off my jacket. “This better be worth my time. I had to lie to Michael to get away from him.” I could swear he saw right through that lie but decided not to argue with me or try to stop me. I fear Michael and I are slowly getting to that point where we simply don’t comment on each other’s life. We just overlook ourselves like two strangers living together. Michael might be that way because he’s afraid he might suffocate me by asking too much.I’m becoming that way because I fear that Michael’s life is far more complicated than normal and I wouldn’t want to learn things that might leave even the slightest bit of resentment towards him in my heart.“I got us your favorite bottle, Adaline. And we might just garden.” Kate creeps up
My fingers are twitching around the phone and I physically have to hold myself back from throwing it against the wall and smashing it into pieces. But I can’t. It’s Kate's phone.“Who the hell…” My voice trembles. “Who would do this?”Kate runs a hand down her face. “That’s the problem… They’re anonymous. And they’re so good at staying that way. They’re just hiding like the fucking cowards hey are and blowing shit up with their toxic followers who’re busy reposting this shit and creating an Adaline hate trend.” I shove the phone back into her hand and stand, pacing back and forth. “That day… Michael had invited a private chef, and some group of people who were too good with violins. Those were the only strangers in the house.” Kate heaves out a staggering breath. “So you think it’s one of them? Michael won’t be happy to know that people he employed would go to this length to slander his woman.”I clutch my arms to my chest. My hands are shaking. My heart won’t stop racing. “More rea
My ear erupts with loud ringing as I watch my world shatter into tiny little pieces. The pain is crippling. It feels as though someone is craving a blade into my heart. Sorrow curls around me, confusion and surprise seizing my ability to breathe. I’m standing with my skin tight with a cold that shouldn't even exist in this heat, my legs firmly rooted to the spot, and my mind spiraling. I’m trying to understand, to make sense of the scene unfolding in front of me. My wide eyes are trained on my best friend and the love of my life, watching as they scramble with the sheets to shield their nakedness, to hide their betrayal. Their shame means nothing to me. The damage is already done.Tears flood into my eyes and sting my lid, I refuse to let them fall. I can’t break—not here, not now. Is it even necessary to hold back the tears?With or without it, my pain is boldly written on my face. My pain shows in the way my eyes are darting around the room with desperation, as if searching for
My fingers are twitching around the phone and I physically have to hold myself back from throwing it against the wall and smashing it into pieces. But I can’t. It’s Kate's phone.“Who the hell…” My voice trembles. “Who would do this?”Kate runs a hand down her face. “That’s the problem… They’re anonymous. And they’re so good at staying that way. They’re just hiding like the fucking cowards hey are and blowing shit up with their toxic followers who’re busy reposting this shit and creating an Adaline hate trend.” I shove the phone back into her hand and stand, pacing back and forth. “That day… Michael had invited a private chef, and some group of people who were too good with violins. Those were the only strangers in the house.” Kate heaves out a staggering breath. “So you think it’s one of them? Michael won’t be happy to know that people he employed would go to this length to slander his woman.”I clutch my arms to my chest. My hands are shaking. My heart won’t stop racing. “More rea
“A hotel? Really, Kate?”I roll my eyes as I step into the room—the VIP room Kate booked for this impromptu meeting of ours. “Happy to see you too after such a long time,” she tells me, voice sarcastic. I throw my back on the single-sitter cushion and take off my jacket. “This better be worth my time. I had to lie to Michael to get away from him.” I could swear he saw right through that lie but decided not to argue with me or try to stop me. I fear Michael and I are slowly getting to that point where we simply don’t comment on each other’s life. We just overlook ourselves like two strangers living together. Michael might be that way because he’s afraid he might suffocate me by asking too much.I’m becoming that way because I fear that Michael’s life is far more complicated than normal and I wouldn’t want to learn things that might leave even the slightest bit of resentment towards him in my heart.“I got us your favorite bottle, Adaline. And we might just garden.” Kate creeps up
The door shuts.My legs shake underneath me.My heart stutters.And my mind echoes with self-destructive thoughts, thoughts I’m unable to properly comprehend at this moment.I stand there, still, staring into space, skin burning from both confusion, and guilt and shame, and the feel of her lips on my skin as she kissed me on the cheek.My hands, the ones that roamed her body while I begged her desperately not just for sex, but for her trust, are limp at my sides, my muscles twitching with the need to punch something, maybe punch myself in the face for ruining a good thing.I blink, but I’m unable to see for a moment.I inhale, but the air isn’t enough. As though there’s none at all, as though Adaline’s absence has taken the air from my lungs. My chest tightens with a weight and I almost stumble.Fuck.I knew this would happen.I knew it the moment her gaze faltered on me and a loud gulp pushed down her throat. My Adaline is slipping away from me. She’s sinking deep into fear and it
Something wet lands on my face and I let out a soft groan, tucking myself tighter into the soft sheets.I’m dreaming. The dream feels vivid as fuck and it’s making me elicit all kinds of sound. Fingers knead my skin. Wetness curls around my face. Warmth surrounds me. And I feel a throbbing sensation in my core. “Fuck…” my voice is low, and I think I’m talking while sleeping.“Baby,” a whisper crawls into my ears and I whimper, trying to turn the other way. Something holds me back… down. A weight settles between my legs and I feel warm breaths on my face, lips brushing mine. I pry my eyes open just as soft lips fuse with mine, moving with slow, desperate passion. It takes me a full second to realize this is not a fucking dream. Michael is kissing me, and I’m kissing him back with the same desperation.His cock presses into my center, and I moan, thankful for the short that’s acting as a barrier between us. Michael’s hands knead my skin, holding me so tight to himself like I might
The drive is quiet. It’s not awkward, just utterly silent with Michael’s fingers laced through mine and his thumb stroking the back of my palm.For me? I’m content, yet curiosity is starting to take the reins. I want to ask what he meant when he said the main business happens underground at the hospital. And I’m starting to regret why I told him to keep that side of his business to himself.But thinking about it, do I really want to know? I might love Michael, I might want to be with him, but the fear is still there, the uncertainty for what the future holds for us. If I learn more about his business or anything he’s involved in, then what? More fear?Resentment?What happens to our relationship?So it’s better I don’t know. I’ll rather remain in the dark than ruin a beautiful thing.Hopefully, this is my beautiful thing…“What’s going through my girl’s mind?” Michael asks.I respond with a roll of my eyes, leaning back into the seat, but I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. H
A few more days at the hospital wouldn’t kill anyone, would it?The normal would be: it wouldn’t. But with a man like Michael who operates very differently from the rest of us in ways that makes us seem like the lesser beings, a few days in the hospital ripped him apart.He became more cranky. Not to me though, the man now fears me and is very careful with what he says or how he acts around me.However, every other person has been a beneficiary of his very nasty behavior. Sometimes, I’m forced to believe he does it on purpose just to get on their nerves. Caleb especially.I’ve noticed that apart from my father, Michael has no other friends. My father is hardly his friend anyway. But then Caleb? They share a special kind of bond.I’ll ask questions, but not now.Maybe when Michael has fully recovered, or probably when he decides to stop being so fucking annoying about his wet hair.“Michael, stop it!” I laugh, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. Michael is already straddling me on
Strained sounds echo through the bathroom. Michael’s knuckles pale as he grips the edges of the toilet tighter, wretching out the bile in his throat. I rub my palm in circles over his back and heave out a breath.“There… let it all out,” I mutter.Michael slaps my hand away as he staggers up on his feet and flushes the toilet, stumbling to the sink to wash his mouth. I exhale a tired breath. “I know it must be frustrating—”“You think?” His voice is snarky.I clench my teeth, already exhausted with Michael’s crankiness since his recovery. We’re still in the hospital, soon to be discharged, but the doctor said he’ll need to be here for a few more days for monitoring because of the alcohol in his system and how it might affect him.Let me tell you this: There have been effects, lots of it.This is another version of Michael that I didn’t know existed. And I’m fighting every nerve in my body not to hate him, I’m trying so hard to be understanding that this behavior of his isn’t really w
Two mornings have gone by, and Michael is still asleep. His chest rises and falls steadily, lashes fluttering, brows twitching every time he mumbles something in his sleep.The nurses say that’s a good sign. That he’s dreaming now. That it means his body’s starting to come back online, slowly.But it’s been slow. Too slow.The IV line is still hooked into his arm, taped down at the crook of his elbow, feeding him fluids and nutrients drop by drop. He’s had five injections so far—two antibiotics, a sedative to keep him stable, and the last two were vitamins to try and keep his energy up. He hasn’t eaten in days. They said his stomach wouldn’t be able to take it yet, so they’re doing what they can to stop his body from completely shutting down.I sit beside him, fingers curled around the edge of the stiff chair, watching the way the clear liquid drips from the IV bag to the line. One, two, three…It’s really weird… really, really weird.And I don’t understand anymore.I’ve barely slept.
I wake before the sun rises. There were no nightmares. Hell, I didn’t even have any dreams. My sleep was simply blank, and that’s what scares me the most. My mouth hangs open, my chest heaving with shallow breaths as I stare at the ceiling, one arm across my chest, the other braced over my forehead. This morning feels different from every other morning.There’s calmness. But there’s also an undertone of chaos. And I feel the need to keep myself from falling apart, yet I don’t know what from. It’s been a month away from the world, away from everyone and everything that kept me busy. It’s been a month away from the man I love. It’s been a month since I left to breathe, to think, and to figure out who I am… who I want to be without being pressured by anyone. And by anyone, I mean my father and Michael. Turns out, staying away didn’t make me breathe any easier. Matter of fact, staying away made every breath ache. Distance didn’t make my life any easier. Michael is all I see. Mich