Look at me.
Look at me.
She does.
And as I sink inside her, watching her face, the sadness in her eyes, I feel it.
She doesn’t want you.
She’s repulsed by you.
She fucking hates you.
The voice is still there. Still mocking me.
This time, I don’t think it’s lying.
Chapter 20Annalise
I roll over, searching for my phone on the nightstand, and glance at the time.
12:22 a.m.
I should be at Tag’s right now, penning songs beneath the moon.
My gaze drifts to the open window as a summer breeze filters inside. The moon isn’t full—a waning crescent—but it still glimmers like honey among the stars.
The imagery has my throat squeezing, heart kicking up speed.
Wide awake, I collect my phone and slide out of bed. Alex doesn’t stir as he lies facedown on the mattress, head turned away as his arms cradle the pillow, a small comfort. He looks peaceful like this. Free of turmoil and inner demons.
My breath hitches as I turn away, quietly padding from the room. There are two cigarettes buried in my purse, calling to me. I need something to quell the chaotic butterflies in my stomach, my own small comfort.
I carry the cigarette and a lighter out to the tiny balcony off the living room, closing the door all the way so the smoke doesn’t carry over to Alex. He’d hate that I’m smoking.
The air is still and fragrant as I take a seat on the metal chair. Crickets hum in the tall grass, and the trees stand dark and unmoving against a sky dusted with stars. A firefly gleams once before vanishing into the black, here and gone in a blink.
I flick the lighter, watching as the night sky distorts around the edges of the flame. My thoughts are parchment paper. Thin, brittle, and ready to burn.
I did it. I gave in.
I’m not sure how I feel now. Alex cherished me in the aftermath, kissing away my tears, apologizing, holding me until I dozed off. But something was missing.
And I think that something was me.
As I light the cigarette and inhale a lungful, my eyes dart to the phone sitting on my lap. Two missed text messages illuminate the face.
Kenna:Call me when you get a minute. I love you.
Chase:Just making sure you got home okay. LMK.
My thumb hovers over the texts, idling between the two. I want to text Kenna, let her know I’m okay, that the moment onstage tonight was just a glitch. Nothing to be worried about.
But I open Chase’s message instead.
Anxiety swims through me, mingling with adrenaline. I should respond with something short and sweet, nothing more.
I’m fine.
