Page 201 of Sinful Lies

My revenge was checked off the list.

I just hoped the man I’d wrongly accused could somehow find it in him to forgive me.

I cleaned myself up, stepping out of the bath, drying off with Angelo’s luxurious towels—soft, fluffy things that felt like they were made for a king. I slipped into the clothes he’d left for me: one of his T-shirts that fell to mid-thigh, and a pair of boxers that were way too big, but I managed to fold them over my hips anyway.

I tried to dry my hair, but then I realized I was about five seconds away from collapsing, so I just let it air-dry and walked out of the bathroom.

When Angelo said we were going home, I figured he meant my place. But, of course, he had brought me to his. When he’d parked in his lot, I hadn’t bothered arguing. Honestly? I had been terrified of being alone with my own damn thoughts. After everything, he was probably the best distraction I was ever going to get.

I padded into the living room, but he wasn’t there.

I wandered around, eyes scanning, until I noticed the door to his office slightly open.

I swallowed the lump of guilt rising in my throat.

Last time I was there, I’d stolen his burner phone and gone off to…

Yeah. Whatever.

I was an idiot.

I pushed the door open just enough to see him sitting there, back to me, staring out the window. The reflection of his face flickered against the glass.

He was holding something in his hand. My necklace.

I circled his desk slowly, unsure. When I finally reached him, I slid between his legs and settled on his lap. He’d just showered—his hair damp, wearing a simple t-shirt and low gray pants.

He didn’t push me away. He stayed still, his hands on the chair’s arms, eyes locked on my necklace, his fingers twisting the butterflies between them.

“Angelo, I?—”

He cut me off. “Tell me everything, Jade. Don’t leave anything out.”

I nodded, my arms wrapping around his neck, my hand brushing against his cheek.

So I did.

I told him about my parents—the love they had for each other, so pure, so deep. I told him how my father passed away when I was too young, leaving us three behind, how Stella was still too little to remember him.

I told him about Stella and me—how we were more than sisters, we were best friends. How I loved her fiercely, even when she took my clothes, my makeup, or the posters on my walls. Sundays were ours, a time to bake cookies and watch movies, just the two of us. The world felt simple then, like nothing could touch us.

I talked about Lake Kendrick, how it became our sanctuary. We spent countless hours there, the quiet beauty of it giving us a space to breathe.

Then the words got harder to say, but I forced them out.

I told him about the day they died, how I watched it all happen, how I wasn’t able to save them. How I survived, but a part of me died that day too. It felt like I’d been living in the shadow of their deaths ever since, even when I didn’t want to admit it.

I spoke about the year I spent in the psych ward, the way my mind wasn’t able to accept the reality of losing Stella. It was like I was stuck in a dream, hoping to wake up and find everything back to the way it had been.

And then, I confessed the part of me that still haunted me—the addiction. The time I overdosed, the darkness that pulled me in, and how I hadn’t touched anything since.

But the cravings, they still came.

A hollow ache in my chest that I couldn’t outrun, no matter how hard I tried.

“When was the last time you really wanted it?”

I swallowed. “A few months ago, when my mama passed.”

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