Chapter 31

Emily

The condo is freezing. Of course, there's no electricity and the private power generator isn't working either. Home, sweet home.

I throw my bag on my bed which basically contains nothing but some underwear, a pair of sweatpants, two hoodies and a towel along with my phone charger (which won't be of use since there's no power) and toothbrush.

I can't help but feel a pang in my heart as I take in this place. The first home that I ever had after moving out of that shithole. I remember Adam, nervously rubbing his hands together as he walked me into this room. "I know that it's not much, but I promise that in a couple of years, once I land a good job, we'll move to a much bigger place." That's what he told me, back then.

As I look at the wall where Adam marked my height difference every year, my chest feels tighter. Why? Why won't he tell Jade about me? What's wrong with me? When will I ever be good enough for him, for his family?

I grab the polaroid of us attached to my closet and crumble it between my fingers. Somehow, the feel of the texture is soothing to the ache inside me.

Unconsciously, I find myself grabbing my phone and going on the self-loathing lane that I fought so hard against: my mother. We have the same almond brown eyes and nose. Although her jaw is slightly softer, our facial angles are practically the same.

She changed her profile picture. The new one is a picture of her with her husband and Elsie. They're smiling widely at the camera and are wearing matching outfits. Elsie seems happy.

I scroll down her posts. The most recent post is a post about adopting a rescue dog from Beta Lebanon. She thanks them for their professional service and shares how happy the rescue dog has made their family. I roll my eyes at the irony: she could adopt a rescue dog but couldn't raise her own daughter. Or even visit.

I swallow back my tears the more I scroll down her page. She posts about Elsie's piano lessons, her husband's job promotion, baking cookies, and more dog pictures. All throughout, I can't help feeling that I should have been there - that's exactly the kind of life that I should have had. One with my parents, where I take piano lessons and we adopt a rescue dog and bake cookies.

But I didn't. Instead, I grew up in that fucking shithole, paraded like some sort of doll to be purchased and all I heard was - oh no, she's too thin, that might bring us bad luck. She's too quiet, don't you have someone who might be more energetic? And my personal favorite: she's too sad, can we have someone who at least knows how to smile?

Before my thoughts can spiral, I hear knocks on the door.

Who could it be? Maybe it's the guy who owns the private generator. I left him a message earlier but it usually takes him days to answer.

When I open the door, I'm met by the green eyes who have been the only escape that I've had in the past couple of weeks. My heart races as I remember our kiss earlier this evening. I forget that my eyes are puffy and my nose is red from all the crying. I forget that my hair is a mess and that the apartment is dark and cold.

In fact, I can't remember anything when he's looking at me like he can see through my soul. He starts to say something but I find myself on my tiptoes, pulling him closer to close the space between us.

As my lips capture his, my hands encircle his neck before running my fingers through his soft curls. I try to deepen the kiss, needing to feel something - anything, other than the caustic sense of loneliness proliferating the more time I spend alone with my thoughts. "Kiss me back," I whisper to his lips.

That's all it takes for him to slam the door behind him and drop whatever bag he was carrying. My back is pressed against the door, his arms caging me between his body and the cool surface behind me. Our tongues are dancing together before he firmly bites my lower lip. The pain is mixed with pleasure, eliciting a moan that I couldn't contain.

I can sense his smile as he works his way to my neck, licking the soft spot right below my ear. I don't notice how tightly I'm pulling his hair, until he whispers in my ear, "Sweetheart, please stop pulling my hair if we're not going all the way. That's a cruel thing to do, even to someone like me."

At this moment, it hits me how safe I feel with him. I know that if I ask him to stop, he would in a heartbeat. I know that he's going to be careful, and slow, and ask me a hundred times if I'm okay. I know that my heart is about to beat out of my chest, and my skin is on fire just from his touch. I know that he's the only one I'd ever want to lose my virginity to, even if it's just a summer fling and he's way out of my league and the other gazillion reasons why this is a mistake. I know that he's the only mistake that I'll never regret making. So I pull his hair a little harder.

His eyes widen, a hint of uncertainty running through them. "Are you sure?"

I gulp, my hands unbuttoning my jeans, without breaking eye contact. "Please, make me forget."

-

a/n. super sorry for the long break - started a new job + moved to a new place and was settling down. i'll definitely go back to regular updates.