บททั้งหมดของ To Hate, To Love, And To Wed: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Michael’s eyes are lit with a smile that makes my heart clench as he rises with his hand stretched out to mine, urging me to take it.For a second, I just stare at the hand, at the slightly shaky fingers waiting for mine to merge with it. My heart beats harder and faster, pushing up into my throat.I swallow down a gulp, offering him a thinned-lipped smile as I lift my hand to his. His skin is warm, soft, and steady against mine. He looks at me as our fingers thread together, my small hand disappearing into his big one but still feels fitting, like they belong together.Michael is still looking at me, really looking at me. And I think this is the first time he’s ever looked at me so long—or maybe it’s the first time I’m really noticing his eyes on me.My chest is rising and falling. So is his. The air between us hums, heavy and soft at the same time. His intense gaze makes me feel tingly and I want to look away, yet I’m unable to.He’s a beautiful man.And he has beautiful hair.I fee

My mouth hangs open, brows drawn into a furrow and heart pounding hard and fast against my throat, only that now, my heart isn’t beating with the happiness of getting this extravagant gift from Michael, but with anger and fear and confusion.Why? I’m staring at the face of the very man who took my heart and broke it into pieces, the man who I gave my trust and he laid naked in bed with my best friend.Memories slam into me like crashing walls and the back of my eyes burn both with anger and tears.I don’t love Austin anymore. God forbid I still have any feelings for the man—boy—who fed me nothing but trash for two long years only to show me in a very disrespectful way that I was a fool for waiting around to see if he’d grow some balls.I am angry that out of all the days, Austin chose to show his face to me today.I am afraid that his presence here and what might come with it will be an issue for mine and Michael’s happiness and this future we’re planning.I am confused as to how this

I recently came across a video where some psychologist was talking about numbness. In her words, numbness isn’t just the absence of emotions, but the overwhelming presence of all emotions, making your mind shut down because of its inability to process them all at once.She was right.I am numb and it’s not that I feel nothing, there’s just too much going on to comprehend. So I’m crumpled on the floor, staring into the distance without actually seeing anything.Or hear anything.My ears are ringing, but not from noise. It’s the kind of silence that feels loud, that kind that amplifies your own thoughts until they crash into one another like waves in a storm.I don’t even know when I slid to the floor. One minute I was upright, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest, and the next… I have my knees drawn to my chest, palms pressed against the cold tile.There are voices, maybe movement around me. But they’re muffled. Distant. Like I’m underwater and everyone else is breathing just

“Because you needed to be safe, and power is the only thing that keeps bloodthirsty men less thirsty. He handed them power so his wife can keep her head.”My skin is shivering, pricking with a desperation to rip apart as the words sink into my mind. My first response is a small breath. The second is to walk around the room, making sure to keep my eyes away from my father, unable to look that man in the eyes at this moment when the only word my mind is screaming at him is: monster!My breath stutters.Disappointment curls around my chest, tightening, squeezing until I’m unable to breathe.“Is this what life is for you, Dad?” I ask, this time standing by the window and looking out to the drive—the very place my mother’s car crashed, the very place she knelt and a bullet split her head open.“What do you mean?” Dad asks from behind me, his voice thick.“I mean, using people to achieve certain goals without minding the effect it has on them?” I lift my shoulders. “Like when you asked me

I don’t know what day it is anymore. And I haven’t slept in… I don’t know. Days? Weeks?Time’s lost all shape.The clock on the wall ticks, but I think it’s been stuck at the same time for hours. Or days. Or maybe I’m the one who’s stuck.Maybe I’m the one who’s been stuck here on this cold floor, head against the leg of a chair, an empty bottle dangling from my hand.My mouth tastes bitter, too bitter… and my mind is heavy, my thoughts so jumbled I can barely make any sense of it.It’s quiet.The silence is scratching at my skin, crawling into my chest and suffocating the hell out of me.The last time I counted days, I stopped at seven, now I can’t tell how long it’s been since I last saw her.The last time I was sober enough to hear what Caleb was saying, he’d said she had taken a walk to the park once, and she sketched.That made me really happy—to know she still has something to look forward to, something in her heart that’s alive.Me? I’m dead in all forms of death.I was dead be