It hurt me worse than anything ever had before.
Noah deserved to find happiness. He deserved to be free, to be who he was.
I’d have to let him go; I’d have to push him towards a man who woke something in me.
Who cared if I died a little bit more inside?
***
I gave up on sleeping and finally pulled my body away from the bed and in turn Noah. I left him hugging my pillow, a blanket over him.
I took a moment to just look at him. To see the dusting of freckles that were hardly seen unless you were up close to him. The round face that had a hand tucked under the chin.
I wanted to savor him. I didn’t want to lose him, but it was too late now. We were better off as friends. It had to stay that way. I’d burn him if he were to want more than what I was capable of giving. He already had my heart and soul, leaving me empty and cold.
I told myself this was better. I could take the pain. Emotions were a thing I was good at blocking out and pushing down. I’ve been doing it for so long, it wouldn’t be hard to keep up the act.
After feeling like the creep that I was, I turned away and left the bedroom.
Noah had to be better off without me. Shutting off the emotions was well overdue. I let them simmer too long as it was.
Now I was paying the price.
Sighing, I found myself staring out the kitchen window. Not that there was much to look at. The dark would still be inky black, hiding not just real monsters from my eyes, but so much more.
Once upon a time, I thought I’d be better off out there. Staying with the Devil had to be better than having everything I was given.
There, I at least knew what to expect. I knew that no one cared about my feelings or wants. They only ever wanted my body. My submission.
How messed up was I to even consider going back there; back to a time when all I had to do was obey orders?
I wouldn’t, because I knew I wouldn’t survive a hell like that again. One time was too many. I wouldn’t be able to live with so many hands on me, commanding my body to do things I didn’t want it to do. It ruined me, possibly for the rest of my life. Not to mention, I’d hurt my family. The people who got me to heal. The few friends I had would pay the price in return.
So no, I wouldn’t go back to that time. But how was I to keep living like this? Giving up Noah? Living day to day with no hope for a better future for myself?
I would have to keep living. I’d have to keep faking it.
Two things I was well-versed in doing.
I may hate every second of it all, but I would do it. I couldn’t hurt Noah or my family. I couldn’t just give up fully like a part of me begged me to do.
I was weak and pathetic. Nothing would ever change that. But I wasn’t that far gone where I could actually take my own life. Just the thought was enough to cause my legs to give out. I fell to the floor, back against a cupboard.
My skin itched for pain. My blood oozed in my veins with the memories of how easily I could bruise if the right instrument was used. My breath stuttered in my throat, choking me as a soundless sob came forth.
Maybe my own happiness would be washed away by the tears, but it’d be my own punishment that’d officially take me out.
Because I did need to be punished. I needed to be forced to accept it all. Each spike of pain, each choking breath, and every release my body could have. It all needed to be taken from me.
I wanted to hurt.
Just not like this.
Chapter 27
Noah bounced around the apartment, humming some sort of tune only he could hear. His p.j. pants slid low on his hips as he reached as high as he could with the duster. I wasn’t sure why the corners of the apartment needed to be cleaned, but whatever.
My feet were heavy as I took the last load to the washer, and got the bedding out of the dryer. My eyes were dry, and I was more than ready for a nap. Although, I didn’t think Noah was anywhere close to wanting one.
