But I do remain just outside their door, standing perfectly still in the dark, listening as if my entire existence depends on what I hear.
I pick up on it all. The pad of their footsteps as they move about the room, the soft breathy laughs Amerie gives, the rustle of clothes, even the subtle smack of their lips as they kiss.
My stomach lurches the moment the mattress gives a telltale squeak.
Then comes his growl. Her moan answers it. She chants his name. Over and over like it’s the only word she knows. And I know exactly what they’re doing.
I clench my fists so tightly that the nails slice into my palms, a pathetic attempt to ground myself as rage sears through me. The jealousy burns so hot it almost peels the skin from my bones. I can hardly breathe, let alone think. All I can do isfeel.
They’ve completely lost themselves in one another, utterly unaware that just on the other side of the door, I’m falling apart.
What’s almost laughable is that they’re trying to be discreet. I can tell from the way they stifle their moans and gasp through their pleasure. But it’s useless. Their desire rings out like churchbells. The slap of flesh, the rhythm of the headboard, the feral sounds he makes when he’s close.
The pressure builds inside me until I can’t stand it any longer.
My hand slips to the doorknob.
I turn it slowly.Carefully. Just enough to crack the door open, just wide enough to see.
And what I do see makes my heart collapse.
Moonlight spills across their tangled bodies like something out of a film. Declan is above her, his powerful frame bearing down with punishing, possessive rhythm. Amerie is clawing at his back, her face slack with bliss as she arches beneath him, coming apart at the seams.
I start to cry before I register I am.
The tears are hot streaking down my cheeks, coming from years of being unseen. Never in my life have I wanted to be someone else more.
I deserve to be her.
It’s a cruelty I can no longer stomach. I shut the door with care and flee down the hallway, the sting of rejection blooming into rage so bright it threatens to split me open.
I burst into the kitchen, my eyes locked on the block of knives beside the sink. I don’t think about it as I dart toward them. My head fills with images of myself grabbing the biggest one, dashing upstairs, making them pay.
Making them feel what I feel.
Untold levels of pain.
But at the last moment, something else wins out. Not sense exactly. Just strategy.
This isn’t how I planned it.
I’ll finally have what I’ve always wanted soon enough. A real family to call my own.
I just have to be patient and work for it.
Breathing hard, I step away from the knives and move to the cupboard with the boiler. I slam my foot against the valve until something gives. A sharp thunk of metal on metal. It echoes louder than I mean it to, but I move quickly to cover my tracks, shutting the door and hurrying back into the living room.
By the time Declan comes downstairs, I’m curled on the sofa beneath a throw blanket, glasses off, face slack, the picture of exhausted innocence.
He barely looks at me before he turns off the telly and takes the bowl of popcorn.
But his scent lingers long after he’s gone. It’s the warm, woody, familiar musk of him that hangs in the air like a promise.
I breathe it in deeply, letting it soothe me to sleep.
Chapter 12
Amerie
