Page 79 of Forever Cursed

It’s strange being open about our relationship after months of attempting to avoid our growing feelings. My eyes dart over to Zack, and the lingering suspicion that he’s going to jump me or stab my eyes out for touching his sister creeps over me. Instead, he’s sitting next to Gwen and Ash, engaged in deep conversation, not even looking our way.

“Your brother confuses me,” I whisper against the top of her head.

“You’re telling me,” she mumbles back with a hint of laughter.

Chrissy shifts so she’s looking at me, a warm smile spreading across her lips. “I’m really happy. I want you to know that. Youmakeme happy.”

Reaching forward, I rest my hand against her sunburned cheek. “You and me, Wildflower. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Fireworks reflect in her eyes, exploding in her irises. The sudden burst of explosions doesn’t shake us. With a shared look of love and admiration, I pull her back against me and look out across the field.

The reverberation of each firework echoes through the air, creating a symphony of crackles and pops. The once-tranquil night sky becomes a canvas of vibrant colors and patterns.

We’re silent as we admire the show, no one daring to move or speak. Multiple fireworks erupt simultaneously, filling the sky with an exhilarating crescendo of light and sound. The crowd erupts in applause and cheers, their faces illuminated by the brilliance above. The air is alive with a sense of joy and awe as memories are created that will etch themselves into our lives.

When the final embers fade away, the tranquility resumes. No one moves; we’re too busy basking in the afterglow. Chrissy wraps her arms around my waist and kisses the underside of my jaw. With a soft smile, I look across the way and catch Ash’s approving expression.

With a smirk, he mouths, “I told you so.”

And I’ve never been more pleased to have been proven wrong.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chrissy

Today is the first official check-in with Professor Clastis, and I’m a bundle of nerves. With my paper in hand and my head held high, I head toward her office. Even though all I really want to do is hide in Rome’s bed, wrapped up in his arms.

This last week has been nothing short of bliss. Most days, Rome is busy with football, but we always end our nights together. I meet him at his apartment, and we hang out, fool around, eat food, talk, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy or cared for. Rome makes me feel as if the stars are about to collide, summoning the end of the world as we know it. I have nothing to fear though. Let the stars collide, let the world end. As long as I have Rome, nothing else matters.

Every two weeks, Professor Clastis wants us to turn in a report of our findings and methods while complying with HIPPA, the act that protects a patient’s identity. We must keep our mentee unnamed, so she doesn’t know who we’re partnered with, and because of the abundance of football players and students, identities are safe.

Technically, the relationship between Rome and I is inappropriate, given that I’m acting as his therapist. I shouldback down, ask for a reassignment, but I was never one to play by the rules. There are things about Rome I need and want to discover. We get deep, but it’s surface-level deep. And let’s not forget the shark in the water; he lied to me. He thinks I don’t know about him still doing Malik’s work. He’s under the assumption that I believe he told Malik to fuck off. That’s not the case though.

As much as I want to confront him about it, I want him to want to tell me. He needs to learn that I’m someone he can trust, someone he can go to in times of need. If I confront Rome about lying to me, he’ll get defensive and take two steps back. This way, he’ll learn what he needs. I just have to let him grow, even if it’s painful to watch.

I round the corner, and her office door comes into view, always open. I’m not sure why I’m nervous. Professor Clastis and I have always had a good relationship. It might be knowing that she’s going to ask me questions that has me nervous. I was never good at being drilled on things, no matter how confident I am.

My hands are shaking when I knock on her door.

She peers over her computer screen and smiles at me. “Ms. Willows, please, come in.”

Her office is spotless. The wooden desk where her two computer screens are is clean from dust and clutter. Various certifications, awards, and academic degrees line the burgundy walls.

She rolls her chair near the edge of her desk, and I sit in the plush leather seat in front of her.

Her smile is flawless and bright. Her eyes are dark, but they sparkle with kindness and love. She cares for each and every one of her students. There’s a reason she’s the head of the Psychology and Behavioral Health Department at Castle Brook University. Her dark hair is shaved short, with wisps of curls,and her umber skin shows no sign of age. She’s the definition of beauty and wisdom.

“How is the program treating you?” she asks, her voice like velvet.

“So far so good.” Why do I sound out of breath?

“Good, and how is your mentee? Treating you and this program with respect, I hope.”

“Oh, yes. He’s open to the experience, and he’s been nothing but respectful.”

Until he throws me into his bed . . .

“Excellent. Have you noticed any signs of burnout or depression?”

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