90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

JEREMÍAS I glance at Krisoff, my hand still gripping the wheel tightly. She's looking at me, not recoiling or shocked like I thought she would. Instead, she's quiet, waiting for me to say something, with curiousity etched in her expression. Damn Caleb for bringing this up. He had dragged a past I had spent years trying to forget so I can have peace, into the light. I had wanted to leave it buried, not saying the truth just so that it can be forgotten and everyone can move on. But now, I have to tell her. And fuck, I can't lie. I never want to have to lie to her. Ever. I turn my head back to the windshield in front of me, inhaling and exhaling silently. “After an incident occurred, my mother decided we should move to Spain.” I expect another question; one that will leave me no choice but to tell her the truth. But she doesn't ask for it. It's like she's avoiding asking that specific question. “But why did only your father move with you?” she presses, her voice low. “C

JEREMÍAS I pull up in front of my parents house, glancing through my window. I see the familiar back of my father's red Mercedes parked in the middle of the driveway. He's home. I turn my head to my side. Ashley is sitting beside me, looking pretty as the morning light hits her fresh, smooth skin from outside. Her hair, usually wild, is pulled back into a bun, leaving her neck exposed and fucking delicate. I stare at the neck—at the soft skin that looks vulnerable and easy to bruise. Then, my eyes drop to her left wrist. She had massaged the joint with ice earlier before putting on the wrist splint again. Every time I look at that black fabric, my jaw tightens. It is my fault. She had gotten hurt because of me and it was surely causing her pain. Damn. “Aren't you coming in?” she asks, her almond shaped eyes fixed on my face, eagerly waiting probably for me to follow her in. I glance back at the figure of the house, then back at her. “I have something urgent to take care

ASHLEY I walk down the hallway, my bare feet pressing against the cold floor. I can't wear these heels anymore. They're bruising me in ways I can't describe. The hallway is silent, except for the soft footsteps of the cleaners descending the stairs after their work. What do I expect? It's still 7:30 in the morning. I'm wondering why Jeremías had sent me home this early, but I don't bother asking him too many questions. He might get irritated easily. I feel energetic. Too energetic, unlike my normal tiredness. Maybe it's because I slept well or I slept in Jeremías' home. It's a step ahead for me. The last time I visited, he had sent me home. I was expecting him to do the same from the club. But I was surprised when I woke up in the middle of the night to see myself on his bed. Though he wasn't with me, it was enough for me. It's a progress from where we last were. I glance at his sweater that's still on my body. It's warm and keeps his scent lingering on me. As I stroll to

ASHLEY André shrugs, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets. He averts his gaze to his phone, glancing at the blank screen for three seconds before turning back to me. “I'm not sure, but I think I heard it from Jere.” I shake my head once. “Jeremías doesn't know that much. He doesn't know my middle name or my first name—probably.” With the way he calls me by my last name, I suspect he doesn't just like the way my first name sounds. “Then, it's definitely from Caleb. When he used to visit during the holidays back then, he was quite the talker,” he says immediately, not waiting a second for me to end my words. I keep quiet. Caleb does know my name, but he isn't the kind to be so interested in memorizing and saying my full name to people. Weird. André exhales sharply, leaning away from the sofa, his posture upright. His eyes darts around the house, his lips still curling into that normal smile. “Aren't you bored, staying here?” he asks, his tone casual and low. “Caleb just l

JEREMÍAS Ashley furrows her brows. “Nightmares?” “About you bleeding,” I say, my voice low. “You have nightmares about that, right? When you plead with your parents to stop your bleeding. It's always the same.” I feel her movements stiffen and her eyes widen slightly. She's figured out that I know. She nods slowly, her eyes fixed on my face, trying to figure out how I know about it. “Yes. But–but how did you know?” She asks, her voice barely audible. “Caleb has no idea about it either.” I licm my lips, my gaze never wavering from her face. I'm battling everything in my not to tell her anything right now. Screw Caleb. Starting something he can't finish. He's still choosing not to be smart even after all these years. Everything is always for his benefit. “How long have you been having those particular nightmares?” I continue. I scan her expression intensely, searching for a hint of reluctance or giving up. I would prefer she stops asking than hearing the truth. It will af