Page 13 of Fly Back to Me
My hands cradle the back of my neck, my chin tilting toward the ivory ceiling. “No,” I groan. “You already had to share a bed with me the first few nights. I’ll be fine.”
“Liv, you’re not fine. I’m sure you woke up the whole apartment complex by now,” she deadpans playfully.
My eyes loll to her as I say, “Good. Maybe someone was about to have an affair, and I just saved a marriage.”
“Ugh. Come here,” she breathes, her arm snaking over my shoulders to tug me to her chest.
“This is hell I’m living in,” I grumble.
“Eventually, you’ll feel better. Have you looked into any of those support groups?”
“Not yet. I’ve just been trying to revive my sanity this past week.” I exhaust another breath, knowing the wicked truth behind my simple statement.
My attacker resides in my mind, stripping my mental health one layer at a time. Visions of him flood my brain every free moment, setting up blinders and drowning all casual thoughts. It’s like he’s lurking in the shadows wherever I go, hovering over me like an ominous cloud.
“I’m sleeping with you. You’re not arguing with me,” Lauren demands, shifting off the bed to tread to the doorway. Her fingers press the rocker switch, and dusk engulfs me once againbefore I shuffle under my sheets.
“I apologize for every time I forced you to engage with the real world. I should’ve respected your introverted ways,” I offer.
Lauren chokes up a laugh, peeling back the corner of the comforter at my left. “Nowyou apologize? How convenient,” she drawls, slipping into bed.
I turn to face her, bundling up the bedding close to me. “I was selfish, and I just happen to be seeing the error of my ways. ‘Post Traumatic Redemption,’ if you will.”
Her body mirrors mine, bunching the periwinkle duvet around her torso. “Okay, we’re even. Happy now?”
We lightly chuckle in sync, our smiles the only light cast in the middle of the darkness.It’s pleasant.A feeling that’s distanced itself from me for the past week.
Lauren rolls on her back, her brown eyes angled toward the ceiling before I pivot to open my nightstand drawer. When I lay my back against the mattress, I twirl the stainless-steel ring between my fingers. I savor the way the divots kiss my skin, my lower belly flipping at the connection.
The silhouette of Lauren’s head turns toward me, but I continue admiring the metal regardless of her judgement. “Do you ever plan on returning it?” she asks.
“It makes me feel safe,” I confess softly. “Like he’s here. Like no one can hurt me anymore.” My attention swings to Lauren, brows dipping in uncertainty. “I don’t think I want to.”
“I think you should return it.”
I shrug, my eyes landing back on the item in question. “I don’t even have a name or address to track him.”
“Maybe you could ask Officer Bellmont to give it to him,” Lauren suggests.
My lips purse to the side, subtle disappointment seeping in when I realize my excuse isn’t strong enough to keephimclose. “I didn’t think about that.”
“You can even send it back with a note.”
I wag my head, almost irritated at the sense she’s making. “No amount of words could ever describe how thankful I am. My letter would never pay justice to the ‘thank you’ I owe him. It would sound stupid,” I admit.
“You have few options, Liv. The odds of bumping into this guy randomly are insanely slim. Microscopic, even. So, before the wheels start turning in that dramatic head of yours, don’t get your hopes up too much.”
“How can I when I have an eternal pessimist lying next to me? Explain to me again how we became friends?” I tease.
“We need each other to pay the bills.”
A smile sprouts across my mouth, my chest bouncing. “Ah, right.” Her palm cradles my face, tugging my head closer to plant her lips on my cheek. “Okay, you’reprobablyright,” I squeeze out.
“Exactly,” she huffs, pivoting to sink her backside into the mattress once again.
My teeth dig into my bottom lip. I maneuver the ring between my fingertips, appreciating every crevice like I’m an artist who has found the world’s greatest masterpiece. “What do you think he looks like?” I blurt out.
“Oh Lord,” she drawls. “What doyouthink he looks like? This should be gold.”
