Page 72 of Sweet Poison

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. Slowly, I turn my gaze toward him. His eyes are soft now, not the usual intensity that makes me feel like he’s reading my mind, but something gentler, warmer. It’s like the sun just peeked out from behind a cloud, and suddenly everything feels brighter.

I search his face, feeling the words rising in me before I can stop them. “What makes you happy?”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze steady. Then, with a slow, almost hesitant smile, he answers, “You.”

And just like that, I’m that little girl again, running barefoot in the garden with flowers in my head, playing fairies with the angry and lonely boy who made my heart beat wildly in my chest every time he looked at me.

I always knew Madden was one of a kind. Someone who made me feel things no one else had. I knew it when we were kids, and I know it now. That feeling, that magnetic force between us— it’s never been anything but real.

That feeling that makes my heart race inside my chest?

That feeling is love.

I fell in love with that boy when I knew nothing of love and now I’ve fallen for the grinch with a heart too big for his broad chest.

My Madden.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

Madden

Past

“The ugliest time of the year.” – M

Isit at the small kitchen table, my stomach twisted in knots. It’s been forever since I ate—maybe since yesterday morning when I had a bowl of stale cereal? The air in our small apartment is thick with the smell of something burnt from last night, and I can’t stop thinking about how hungry I am. My cold fingers trace the purple bruises on my arms from the last time I asked for food, and a heaviness settles in my chest. The excruciating pain from yesterday’s beating is still fresh and I still have dry blood on my busted lip.

Looking around the room, I try to distract myself from the pain in my belly. Dad’s slumped on the ratty couch, looking worn out from his extra shift at the factory. In a couple hours, he’ll have to drag himself up to get to his second job at a meatdeli. But no matter how many shifts he works, we never make ends meet.

Maybe it’s because Dad blows half his paycheck on booze and card games.

After life shattered his spirit, the man gave up on everything— even his own sons.

The door creaks open, and my brother, Milton, storms in, his dark brow furrowed like always. He’s got a beer in one hand, exhaustion in his eyes, and I can almost feel the anger radiating off him. He glances at me, his eyes narrowing like I’m something dirty on his shoe. I shrink back in my chair, wishing I could disappear so it doesn't hurt this much.

“Don’t make fucking noise, or else,” he snaps, marching toward his room without a second glance, leaving me alone with the weight of his threat.

I know that look. It’s a look that promises ugly words and a whole lot of pain.

Because to Milton, I’m the reason everything’s gone wrong. I’m the reason he had to drop out of school and get a job to help Dad.

He’s a high school dropout who works at the corner store with no future and a drinking problem—everything Dad never wanted for his firstborn son.

And Milton blames me for Mom leaving us.

I blame myself too.

I stare at the peeling of the dirty wall, the peach-colored paint crumbling like the remnants of my father’s broken dreams. I want to cry, but the tears won’t come—maybe because I’m just too tired, or maybe because I’ve cried all the tears I have left. All I can think about is the rumble in my belly, and how I wish I could disappear to somewhere where there was no pain. I just want to disappear. I want the world to forget I exist.

When the pain in my stomach becomes unbearable, I quietly slip out of the apartment, in search of something that can ease the pain.

The cold winter air bites at my skin as I step outside, the chill seeping through my thin green shirt, making me shiver. My stomach feels like it’s eating itself, gnawing from the inside out, reminding me of my misery. The hallway smells musty, but I don’t care. The only thing I care about is getting away from this emptiness inside that no one and nothing in this shit world can fill.

I push the door open and step into the cold winter night. Snowflakes fall around me like tiny beacons of hope, and for a second, I almost forget how much everything hurts. Almost.

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