I thought our relationship was going to get stronger whenAtegot married, but it didn’t. If anything, it became more strained. And I was left giving half-assed apologies becauseAtetells me to always be the bigger person. And I try, I swear I try. But no matter how much I do, it’s never enough.
Shame morphs into my skin and becomes my new mask.
I’ve been pacing outside for the past hour. My inner demons are shaking hands instead of fighting and that’s what makes me nervous.
My dumbhead thought I’d be okay surviving off of one colouring book this summer.
In my defence, it had over two hundred pages.
I’m currently losing my mind.
Everyone’s out on a date.
Except me.
On top of that, Rosa knows now. Then we had a fight. She’s going to tellAte, I know she is. She never keeps anything to herself. ThenAteis going to be disappointed in me and with her being pregnant, she’ll feel utterly sad and unwell, and it’ll all be because of me. More than that, she’ll need her space to think, and I don’t want to give her space.
See,thisis why I need my colouring books.
A small, fallen tree branch catches my attention.
Screw it.It’s my only option.
I crouch down and start rubbing the end of the stick, using the end of the stick on grass like it’s a colouring pencil. I rub and rub until the green prickles pull out from their places and scatter around the ground. Instead of dry soil, wet mud emerges and flings onto me, but I give it no attention. I’m immersed in scraping the soil until there’s nothing but a small, deep hole.
It's not enough.
In frustration, I drop the stick and stand.
A cold chill traverses through the small yard. Beyond me is a view of iridescent blue light shining down upon the lakes.
“Nova.”
The deep rumble of his voice causes me to stumble over my feet and just as I’m about to greet the ground, his large hand warps around my waist and keeps me upright.
Warmth spreads through my abdomen and across my cheeks.
“Are you okay?” His breath fans against my ear.
Withholding my quivering breaths, I pull away from him. My hands automatically rub up and down my arms.
“Why aren’t you on your date?”
Dean clenches his jaw. “I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Oh.” That makes sense. “What about Katarina?”
That’s when I notice that Dean’s hair is wet like he ran out of the shower and somehow teleported down here the instant he heard me outside. My skin fizzles with the sudden urge to touch him.
“Irene said she’ll take care of it.”
The moon brightens up a notch, yet it’s Dean’s green eyes that illuminate the dark night.
“You should rest, Dean.” I swallow hard.
He notices the abandoned stick near my foot and the remaining evidence of dirt that now stains my arm.
Internally, I’m smacking my forehead.
