Chapter 73

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It doesn't really matter what you do or say
I'm never going anywhere anyway
'Cause when I'm dying for you, I've never felt so alive

Song: Song #3, by Stone Sour

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2020, February, 8th, Saturday | 4pm

Aster's P.O.V.:

A whole week wasn't enough for the bruises on my skin to disappear completely, but at least they're starting to faint from the ugly dark blue and purple to a pale yellowish green.

Guess I'm lucky, considering most parts of said bruises are from my neck down, mainly on the sides of my body, over my stomach and legs, some on my arms and wrist, but almost nothing on my face. Well, no nothing - there are the cigarette burns, but they're almost entirely healed after a week, not even pinkish anymore, just perfectly round brownish yellow marks that I can easily hide under some makeup.

I've spent most part of the last week by myself, only leaving Harry's room when he is not home, but my ribs are still too sore for me to go anywhere outside this apartment, so the only times I left was to change a bit of the scenario, going to sit outside in the porch or downstairs at the living room.

Rickie has been baby-sitting me, not only at my disposition to go get me water or something to eat, but even helped me go to the bathroom in the first three days after I came home, when I was too sore and too weak to go there by my own. It drove Harry crazy to know there was another man helping me take off my pants, but honestly he shouldn't be concerned - not only Rickie has turned into someone like a brother to me, he refused to look in my direction every time I had to take off one of my clothes. Honestly, it is kinda scary how good he is at undoing pants with his eyes closed, but I try not to focus on the matter, it's too awkward.

I asked Harry to give me some space and let me think about everything that has happened, and that's exactly what he did. I've barely seen him during the whole week, he slept in one of the guest rooms and I noticed he tried his hardest not to be around for most part of the time, coming home only to shower and sleep. I have no idea where he goes to when he is not around, don't know if he is at S&L, Karma or any other place where he runs the legal and illegal sales team, but I'm really trying not to think about it too much - after all, I was the one who asked him to give me space, it would be inconsistent to do it whilst wanting to know every step he takes.

This was the longest time we stood apart ever since he came back to New York, and I can't even describe how awkward it is to stay afar from him while sleeping in his bed and staying in his apartment, but it's not like I can go to my place anymore. I still don't feel safe there, and honestly, I've been really considering selling it, giving the money to my father and buying a place for myself that is never going to be tainted with his presence.

The pain medicine the doctor prescribed makes me super dizzy, so I've slept a lot and couldn't read or keep up with a single movie on Netflix, but I guess it was for the best - it allowed me to concentrate in what really matter when I was awake, which was to try and organize all the messy thoughts running through my mind.

It's hard to address how I'm feeling about the great possibility of my sister being alive. I've spent most part of my life believing she died at the age of 19 and it feels so unreal that she might be 36 years old now. I wonder how she looks, if she still dyes her hair blonde, if she still loves watching horror movies and going out for long walks at night.

Did she ever get married?

What if she's a mom now? I would be an aunt, something I've never thought to be possible.

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