Page 89 of Xander
I stopped and then twisted my neck, narrowing my eyes at Merlin, “What do you mean she’s not there? It's nine forty-five at night. She's always home by seven at the latest if she’s not here.”
He shrugged, “She moved. She got the job of her dreams.”
I felt something in my heart crack open, “When did she leave?”
He shrugged again, “Four days ago.”
At those three words, I staggered back.
Four days ago.
Four fucking days ago.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I thundered.
He locked his eyes with mine, “You made your decision, Xander. You told her that y’all had nothing but friends with good times. She deserves better.”
I growled, “Where did she go?”
He shook his head, “Let her go, Xander. Find yourself another willing body and forget about her.”
I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that.
These past couple of weeks have been eye-opening for me.
And that was when I buckled down... and I planned.
I might not have known how to give someone a hug.
I might not know anything about how a relationship works.
But I know her.
I know myself.
And together, we could make the stars wince from the shine we were about to create.
I just had to put in the work.
And I wasn’t afraid of work.
I had the evidence on my body.
The tattoos.
The scars.
The fucking scars.
Scars that Nola had caressed with her tongue, teased the raised skin, and kissed.
I was a fucking idiot.
No fucking more.
'The man who is truly sorry will change his behavior.’
– Nola’s Secret Thoughts.
