chapter 6

Chapter 6

Kayla's Pov

My body ached as I turned on the bed. My head was pounding.

The pain struck me like a truck as I slowly opened my eyes. "Fuck, I clutched my head and moaned. It wasn't good. Very bad.

I must have overindulged in alcohol last night.

I sat up and blinked a few times to concentrate. The light was painful. Monica always left me a glass of water on the lamp-side table, so I reached for it every morning.

I hadn't even given her a proper thank you for the thoughtful act.

I took slow sips of the water and let it soothe my parched throat.

Since I arrived, I have been eating breakfast in my room. I know very little about this house. Just Dante's room and this one. That's all.

Leaning back against the headboard, I let out a breath. I was struck by everything from last night once more. The alcohol. The girl. Dante. the weeping. The yelling. The way he pulled me out as if I didn't exist. I most likely overindulged in alcohol.

My head feels like it's splitting open, so that must be the reason.

Then there was a knock. Soft but timely. I looked at the time. Monica, once more. "Good morning, ma'am," she said softly as she entered the room.

I exhaled. "Monica, I told you to stop referring to me that way. Call me Kayla, please.

A brief pause was followed by a little chuckle. "All right. Kayla. Should I bring breakfast here, or are you coming down?

I paused. My typical response was on the edge of my tongue. However, I stopped myself. No. I can't continue to lurk here like a ghost. I've got a life. I still have my life, no matter what mess I'm in. "I'm coming downstairs," I whispered.

A pause occurred. Then I heard Rose's breath catch as if she had just witnessed something minor but significant.

"All right," she said quietly, almost joyfully.

Perplexed by how much her tone had brightened with that straightforward response, I glanced at the door and grinned a little.

I was not going to hide today.

I didn't want to feel confined today. "Yeah, I said, "I'm coming downstairs."

Her voice brightened, and I heard it. "All right! I'll see you there.I said, "Just give me a second. Let me gather myself." "Take your time," she replied.

I sat there staring at the door for a while after she left.

As she left, I hastily got out of bed, stumbling a little because the headache was still bothering me.

I dragged myself over to the mirror and gazed.

God, I looked like a crazy person.Pale lips, tired eyes, and wild hair. I laughed a little, bitterly. What a mess.

I undressed without giving it much thought.

I wanted to take a shower to relieve my weight. However, I eventually stopped.

directly in front of the mirror. I took another close look at myself.

My attention was initially drawn to the scar near my neck. Healed, angry, ugly, but never truly gone. My eyes came next.

One is gray. Just one honey.

I detested the way it made me appear... lovely.

I didn't want suffering to be beautiful. I grabbed my towel and entered the restroom.

It felt like a reset because the water was cool and revitalizing. I wore a tank top and a basic pair of shorts after drying off, and I brushed my hair idly.

In any case, I had no intention of seeing Dante.

So what's the point of dressing up?

It felt weird as I left the room and headed downstairs. I realized that I had never done this before.

Ever since my marriage... The remainder of the house had never even been seen by me. I had no idea where the dining area was.

I took advantage of the chance to explore and wandered a little. Then I discovered that I was in the wrong place, the kitchen.

However, it had a pleasant, cozy scent.

Curious to see how it looked, I fully entered.