But there isnothing.
Even as he holds me, the memory of Damiano’s eyes burns in my mind. His shadow is there, like a relentless burden in my chest that refuses to move.
I pull away, my breath coming in shallow, uneven hitches. Julian looks at me, his eyes glazed.
“I... I can’t,” I breathe, my voice trembling. “I’m sorry.” I can’t look at the hurt I know is etched on his face, so I look away.
“I can wait until all the pain is gone. I’ll be patient.” He whispers after a beat.
And all I could do was nod.
“I’m going to sleep in the backroom,” I say, already backing away.
I turn and leave before he can reach for me again. As I closed the door of the small, cramped room, the click of the latch felt like relief.
I sit on the edge of the narrow cot, my lips stinging cold from the kiss I know meant a lot to him but only pain and guilt to me.
I should be thankful I have him. There’s no reason I shouldn’t fall in love with him.
But I am hollowed out and numb.
I stare at the ceiling as the darkness stares back, while midnight falls, and the storm outside grows angrier.
After some time of lying there, I feel Julian open the door.
I freeze and shut my eyes as I feel him walk closer to me. When he leans down and kisses my forehead before leaving, I find my clarity.
Damiano has ruined me for other men.
Chapter 36
Katarina
I lie in bed awake for the next two hours, hoping sleep will come. But the pit in my stomach only grows bigger and deeper from a feeling of impending doom.
My palms and feet are sweaty, and my thoughts are racing.
I can’t breathe.
Fuck.
The panic attacks are back.
It started after the car accident. I managed to hide it for a long time until Mateo came home one day and found me frozen in fear in the living room. He put me in therapy despite my protests, but nothing worked. Not even the medication helped. But no one knew that, of course. I was too good an actor. I pretended everything was great and soldiered through every attack since.
I get up from the bed in an attempt to calm myself down.
I pace the tiny room, my sweaty feet restless on the cold terracotta tiles. I exhale and reach for the platinum cuff on my wrist. I try to wiggle my hand through the cuff, but it’s impossible.
Damiano wasn’t kidding when he said only he can remove it.
A dizzying mix of anger and hurt washes over my senses, and my breathing turns to shallow gasps. Suddenly, I’m starvedfor air. I put a hand on the wall to steady myself and press a fist to my chest, trying not to drown.
“Shit,”I whimper.
When my vision started to blur, I knew I needed help.
I walk towards the door, my legs shaking, and reach for the doorknob.
