Page 68 of Forever Cursed

I tangle my hand in her hair and pull her against my lips, kissing her with blind devotion.

She grins against my mouth and traces tiny circles on my arm. “Now sleep. We can kiss more once that headache of yours goes away, deal?”

“Deal.”

“It’s all your fault!” Father shouts at me, wagging his finger in my face.

“I’m sorry!” I crybefore falling to my knees.

“She left because of you. Everything was fine until you were born.”

My palms meet my tear-drenched eyes, trying to scrub the tears away. “I’m sorry.”

“You should have been the one to leave, not her. Anyone but her.”

“I know.”

“You’re the one to blame.”

“I know.”

“You’re the reason this family is broken.”

“I know.”

“She left because of you.”

“I know.”

“It’s all your fault.”

“I know . . .”

My eyes are wet when I open them. The room is dark, and my heart feels like someone is squeezing it. That’s not the first time I’ve had that dream. It returns when I’m stressed or tired. Dad never said those things to me, but I know that’s what he thinks when he looks at me. That’s the reason he only calls or texts me once a month. In his eyes, I’m the reason the love of his life left. I’m the reason we’re not happy.

I sit up and rub my eyes, clearing away the tears in the process.

The aroma of fresh bakery rolls and meat filters into my room, piquing my interest.

“Wildflower?” I call out, and she appears in the doorway not a moment later.

“You’re up! How do you feel?” she asks while rushing toward me.

“My eyes are sore, but my headache is almost gone.”

“Good, are you hungry?”

I look at her with a knowing smile. “Do you really need to ask me that?”

“Jeez, the sass master has returned. Stay right there, and I’ll be right back.”

She hurries out of my room, and the clatter of plates and the rustling of paper comes a minute later.

When she returns, she puts two plates down on the bed, along with a brown paper bag.

“One more second.” She walks back out and returns with some ginger ale. “Dinner is served.” She rests her hands on her hips and smiles triumphantly. “Cheesesteaks and french fries. Hope that’s okay. I haven’t had a decent one since my last trip to Pennsylvania.”

“This is perfect, thank you.”

---