Page 120 of Did They Break You

I swallow, closing my mouth, and his grip changes, against my jaw like Storm’s was. He pulls me closer, his lips crashing against mine. He devours me, and a sob leaves my mouth, pouring into his.

He takes it.

All of my pain.

He takes it.

And Storm doesn’t let go either, grounding me as he watches me kiss his best friend.

We fucked each other up.

We fucked each other over.

Another sob leaves me, but Cortland takes it, his tongue twirling with mine.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers into my mouth, “just let it go.”

I do, crying as I kiss him until I can’t breathe and I can’t cry anymore.

I’m not a shell, though. Not like I was after that night.

I’m not empty. Not numb. Not hollow. And I didn’t even need to bleed.

And when Cortland finally lets me go, then carries me like I’m a child, my arms around his neck, head nestled against his chest, just like that night, I know I’m full.

Of feelings, of trauma, ofeverything.

But I’m not numb.

At the very least, I’m not that.

Still, as he lays me in his bed, pulls off my shoes, and tugs me close to him, his arms wrapped protectively around me,I’m not sure that’s a much better feeling.

I wakeup to an irritating buzzing noise, like a gnat or a fly. My eyes feel heavy, my throat thick with sleep, and I’m not ready to get up. Not ready to move at all. But the sound doesn’t stop. It’s vibrating near my head, and as I pry my eyes open, see faint streams of light filtering in through Cortland’s dark gray curtains, my gaze narrows in on the source of the noise.

Cortland’s phone, a few inches from my face, on the king-sized mattress.

For a second, I have to remember where I am.

What I did.

The library flashes in my mind.

The movie.

The panic.

Storm and Cortland both comforting me.

I feel sweaty, heavy, and sluggish as I reach my hand out for Cortland’s phone, the screen flashing. It’s then I realize his arms are still around me, and he’s breathing deep and even at my back.

A smile graces my lips before I can bite it back, despite last night. The bottle shattering. The movie. The fear. Storm.

Cortland.

“You’re everything.”

In this moment, exhausted, but warm and safe in Cortland’s arms, I feel something like elation.

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