บททั้งหมดของ Dirty and Sinful Collection: บทที่ 301 - บทที่ 310

8Vivian.Guilt is a living thing. Some mornings it’s a quiet ache in my stomach, easily ignored as I pour coffee and pretend I’m still the woman Gerald married. Other times, it claws at my insides, sharp and relentless, whispering that everything I’ve built will come crashing down because of what I can’t seem to stop needing. I thought I could hold it together. I thought I was strong enough to keep lines drawn in the sand.But I was fooling myself, and I think I knew it.The day after our weekend together, the guilt came roaring back, bigger and meaner than ever. The house felt too bright, too exposed. Every room carried the scent of Landon’s skin, the memory of his hands and mouth and voice. I scrubbed the sheets, mopped the floors, threw open every window. None of it helped.Worse, every time Landon came near me—brushed my hand at breakfast, caught my eye from across the room—I felt the whole thing unraveling inside me. The fear that Gerald would notice. The fear that I was losing m

10Vivian.There’s a peculiar numbness that follows fear—the kind that settles into your bones after days and days of anxiety, when you’ve spent so long bracing for disaster that you forget how to stand upright. I felt it that morning as I stood by the window, arms wrapped around myself, sunlight painting gold across the floor. Everything in the house felt unfamiliar. Even the birds outside seemed too loud, as if nature itself was conspiring to remind me that nothing would ever be the same again.I hadn’t slept. Not really. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mrs. Radley’s pinched mouth, her hungry eyes. I heard whispers behind cupped hands, saw Gerald’s face twisting in confusion and heartbreak, felt the whole town turning against me. But underneath the dread was something else—a throb of longing, so sharp it was almost a kind of hope.Landon’s footsteps echoed down the hall. I didn’t turn. I’d asked him to meet me here, not trusting myself to say what needed to be said anywhere else.

2Maya.The first week home felt like living in a time warp—every day the same, sunlight drifting through heavy curtains, Harper’s laughter in the background, the low hum of the TV at night. Sometimes it was easy to pretend things hadn’t changed at all. Sometimes I’d catch Harper watching her dad across the living room, and the ache in her eyes made my stomach twist.But I was here for the summer, a fact I kept repeating to myself, as if saying it enough times would make me feel less like an intruder and more like family.Tonight was one of those sticky, restless nights where nothing settled right. Harper crashed early, curled up on her side with her phone still clutched in her hand, breathing even and soft. The air in her room felt thick, so I slipped out, pulling the door shut with barely a click.Down the hallway, moonlight pooled on the floorboards, silver and cool. I padded barefoot downstairs, the old steps creaking just enough to make me wince. In the kitchen, the lights were o

4Maya.I wasn’t sure if the universe was punishing me, or if I was just getting careless. Maybe both. All I knew was that my nerves had been frayed since the afternoon in Julian’s car, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the world was going to crack open at any second.Harper was restless too, bored after a week of summer sun and lazy days. So when she dragged me out to a party—some old friend’s house across town, packed with music and bodies and smoke—I barely protested. It was easier to pretend, easier to drown in noise and neon than sit in the heavy hush of the Evans’ house, waiting for Julian to pass by in the hallway, avoiding my gaze.The party should have been a distraction. For an hour, it almost was. Harper found a group of people she knew from high school, and I stood in the kitchen with a solo cup of something sweet and sticky, letting the music thrum through my veins. People danced, someone spilled beer on my shoes, and for a few minutes I almost felt normal—just anothe

6Maya.By now, I should’ve known better. I should’ve known that nothing reckless stays secret forever. But desire is a kind of madness, and in Julian’s arms, all my sense melted into want, into the thrum of something that felt too big and urgent to ever fit inside rules.The night was slow. Harper was home, but tired, drifting between Netflix and half-hearted phone calls with the guy she’d brought home from the party. Julian kept to himself all evening, moving around the house with a tension that I could feel even from across the room. I tried to study, but every word on the page blurred and ran together. All I could think about was his hands, his mouth, his skin.It was late by the time Harper finally went to bed, waving at me from the stairs. “Don’t stay up all night,” she called, and I mumbled a promise I didn’t mean to keep. I was already glancing at the clock, counting the minutes until the house went quiet.Julian came into the living room, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes rim