I lift myself off of her in one swift movement, but not before stealing one last kiss from her swollen lips. “This isn’t over, baby.”
36
Naomi
I couldn’t sleep that night.
All I could think about was, what the hell happened and how did I let it?
I still can’t forgive Sebastian for what he’s done. I still don’t want him back.
So why the fuck did my body react in that shameful way?
Maybe it’s because the physical and emotional are separated after all.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been sexually frustrated for weeks and I took it out on Akira in the toxic letters we’ve been exchanging.
At any rate, none of what happened last night should’ve happened.
If my mom hadn’t come in, just how far would I have let him go?
I need to detox from his influence one way or another.
Either that or the bubbling frustration will get the better of me. That and Mom’s cancer are too much to handle.
Maybe that’s why I cracked and accepted Lucy back, on probation, as I told her. We’re both outcasts anyway, and she basically committed social suicide by going against Brianna. Even Prescott doesn’t look in her direction anymore. Reina and I have somehow grown close, too.
I know. Crazy.
So now, the three of us are kind of friends, or colleagues or whatever, but we’re not close enough that I’d tell them the whole thing about Mom.
She’s keeping it a secret from the board until the last minute and asked me not to say anything in exchange for going on a trip together.
Besides, I don’t fully trust Reina and Lucy. It’ll take time with those two.
I never would’ve thought that Reina and I could become close, but here we are. I guess it’s all because of her memory loss. It’s like the cruel, vindictive Reina has gone and a completely different, honest girl, came in on her behalf.
One who cares and tells Brianna off. One who hates her past actions whenever she’s reminded of them.
The fact that her fiancée, Asher, is back, might have something to do with it.
The same Asher who’s one of Sebastian’s closest friends.
My monster has been bugging me any chance he gets, cornering me and blocking my exits. He sends me texts and talks about himself and me. He still believes there’s an us even though I repeated for the thousandth time that we’re over.
Stop thinking about him, Naomi.
I repeat that in my head over and over again, and yet, I find myself in the forest at dusk.
At the rock, to be more specific.
My arms lie limp at my sides as I stare at the dirt covering it while the late afternoon sun casts orange hues on the trees.
He must’ve completely forgotten about this place.
What was I expecting? That he’d make an altar where he used to shove me down and fuck me?
This isn’t over, baby.