Emily was also trying to reconnect with me.When we last met, we had a heartfelt conversation that left us both in tears, reminiscing about how close we used to be.Friendships can be just as complicated as romantic relationships, and both require effort to maintain.
Zane hadn't taken me to his place yet, but we had hung out a few times with theVipersat the lounge where Clous was DJ-ing.It turned out that Clous was dealing with his own issues, stemming from his father's incarceration, which had left him troubled and reliant on drugs and smoking.He wasn't a bad person, just someone deeply affected by his circumstances.Only V seemed capable of keeping him in check.
Jake, on the other hand, was more like a pawn—secretly in love with V, who took advantage of that.They were just a group of troubled kids filled with anger against the world.
As much as I tried to connect with V, it didn't work out, and Zane reassured me that it was okay.I couldn't shake the feeling that V resented me, and I was at a loss for how to improve things.
At work, I was still making occasional mistakes, but thankfully, I hadn't caused any disasters lately, like poisoning someone or burning down the coffee shop.
Sadly, Enzo’s wife had passed away, and he was losing interest in running the place, even contemplating closing it down.Things had been chaotic at the shop, but I knew things would find a way to get better.
My relationship with Zane was primarily about discovering each other on a deeper level.However, I found myself in a state of confusion as things seemed to stagnate.I was more than ready to move forward; in fact, I felt prepared even before our first kiss.The attraction between us was palpable—I was just as infatuated with him as he was with me.
Nearly a month had passed, yet I hadn't even seen him without a shirt since the capoeira performance.My thoughts were consumed by dreams of him, my imagination running wild and difficult to restrain.There were moments when I could sense his desire building beneath his clothes, and it left me feeling anxious and frustrated.It felt almost torturous.
I craved everything about him; I longed to become one with him in every conceivable way.I wanted to belong to him entirely.But it seemed that only time could grant me that wish.
Chapter 28
Ifound myself screaming in a dream.It was so real.It felt as if I was attempting to wake myself up.When I finally opened my eyes, I was gasping for breath.My mom sat on my bed, visibly shaken, her hands gripping mine.My dad stood at the doorway, his mouth agape in shock.
“Shhhh, it's just a nightmare,” my mom reassured me, brushing her thumb gently against my forehead.I struggled to steady my breathing.
“Elio, get some water,” she instructed my dad, who dashed downstairs.“What did you dream about, sweetheart?”she asked, her eyes wide with concern.
“I can't remember.I don't think I was dreaming at all,” I replied, racking my brain for any details.
“You were screaming and saying…” she hesitated, just as my dad returned with a glass of water.
“Drink this; it will help you feel better,” he said, worry etched on his face.
“What did I say?”I asked, intrigued.
“Nothing, dear.It was just a nightmare.Everything's fine now.Do you think you can go back to sleep?You still have a little while before morning,” my mom said, kissing my forehead before standing up.I nodded, pulling the blanket over myself.
They left the room, but sleep was far from my mind.I was restless, desperate to recall the dream or perhaps a memory.I heard my parents talking, but the words were muddled.
I rose slowly, trying not to make a sound, and tiptoed to the door.I managed to crack it open and crept toward their room.Dropping to my knees, I leaned in close to the space beneath the door to listen.
“What do you want me to say?I don't know,” my mom’s voice floated through.
“It's been years, and it's always the same,” my dad replied sharply.
“I thought it might eventually fade away.I have no idea what's going on, do you?”my mom questioned.
“Of course not!If I knew, we wouldn't be dealing with this,” my dad snapped.
“What do you think it means, the things she's saying?”he continued.“Maybe it's something she saw in a movie?”he suggested.
“A movie?Are you serious?For years?Every year at this time she has these nightmares.And you know what this time is—when she didn't speak for four months.It has to be something deeper,” my mom insisted.
“Then why not just ask her?”my dad countered.
“Don't you think I've tried?She says she doesn't remember,” my mom’s frustration was evident.“Enough.We'll talk more about this tomorrow,” she concluded, and I heard the bed shift.I quickly retreated, slipping back into my room.
Honestly, I had no more interest in delving into whatever past experiences lingered.I was content, experiencing something new and falling in love.No childhood trauma could overshadow that joy.It didn't matter whether it was a bully or a harsh teacher; their actions were behind me, and I had no wish to revisit them.
As the sun rose, I made my way downstairs, brewed a cup of coffee, and wrapped myself in a cozy blanket before stepping outside.I felt the urge to enjoy my coffee outdoors.
