Being right wasn’t what it was always cracked up to be. It didn’t always hold the victory, and more often than not, it left you alone and empty.
Part of me had hoped she’d prove me wrong—a part I hadn’t known existed until she slid into the role I’d protected myself from—the role Daria created all those years ago.
“If you try to leave me with nothing, I will ruin you. I will tell everyone that you’re an abuser—that your father was an abuser. I have proof.”
Aspen’s words aligned too close to Daria’s, ringing in my head as if they were used to toll a bell. They vibrated through my bones and coiled around my muscles, pulling them into action.
The past and present blurred together as I leaned in and lowered my voice, darkness coating my words. “If you end this, then I will take your precious company from you. All of it.”
She huffed a brittle laugh, fixing me with a glare that was hollow but still unyielding—like she’d already lost and refused to admit it.. “Fine.”
One simple word, and then she was gone.
All her fight, gone.
I blinked, and she’d turned away.
I blinked again, and it was as if she hadn’t been there at all.
Except for the spicy vanilla scent, still lingering like a ghost.
Except for the single word, still ringing with finality.
Fine.
Fine, what?
Fine, she doesn’t care about the spanking?
Fine, we were over, and I could take her company?
Both sat uncomfortably, bulky in my mind. Both refused to settle correctly in my chest. Both…hurt.
“Fuck,” I breathed.
Focusing on my promise to Rose, I swiped a hand over my face and headed back to the room.
The soft music, the quiet hum of conversation, and the clinking glasses blended together, sounding more like a deafening cacophony of percussion instruments. All while a shrieking siren pierced the noisy fog, growing louder with each step closer to the stage.
I looked up, trying to focus on my goal—helping my friends, but found Emily’s seductive gaze with a temptress’s smile staring back. My breaths seized, and my steps faltered, as if each inch closer chained more weight to my feet.
By the time I reached Corbin at the stage, the alarm rattled so loud in my head that I couldn’t see straight. I thought back to the alarm that sent me running in the first place—a mere whisper compared to the vibrating clang against my skull.
“You okay?” Corbin asked.
My stomach churned.
Fuck.
I was going to vomit.
I had to get out of there.
“I-I can’t do this. I’m so sorry.” I barely heard myself over the chaos tearing my insides apart. “I can’t do this.”
“Hey, man. It’s okay,” he said, his voice full of concern and questions I couldn’t answer because I was already turning back, practically running away.
I made it to the dimly lit hallway and sucked down a lungful of air.
