Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
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𝗥ayne dragged her concealer brush underneath her eyes, doing her best to cover up the splotchy pink coloring that was beginning to take its hold over her complexion. It was unsurprising that it was invading her skin, however – she hadn't exactly been relaxed for the last week.
After last night's breakdown and everything she experienced when confronting Enzo, she knew she needed to put this involvement behind her. She meant what she said to Rueben in the shower, albeit, it came out rushed, she had no intention of lying to him.
When they got together, she told herself that she wasn't going to get involved with the mafia half of it all, but the moment the opportunity presented itself to do so, she jumped on it without a single second thought. That was her downfall; as much as she wanted to leave the rest to the people who were actually capable of doing what she thought she was – she constantly believed that she had to do things on her own; it was also tied in with her anxiety – what if she didn't involve herself and then things didn't go as planned?
She let out a much-needed exhale and placed her blender pad down, having finished with her makeup. There were many things she was good at, and sticking her nose where it doesn't belong was sadly one of them. Nevertheless, that was going to end today. It was the first step of many, she could admit that, but she was glad that she finally convinced her mind that it was okay to place her problems in the hands of willing others; not everything needed to be micromanaged, and not everything had to be solved by herself – she had reliable people now.
Slipping her fingers through her hair, she stared at her reflection as she parted the strands into a half-up, half-down hairdo. Gazing from her cheekbones, down to her jawline, she could visibly see how much this was taking a toll on her. Her eating had gotten worse; done infrequently. Her hair was thinning out – she could see that more so as she pulled it apart.
I look hideous.
I need to hit the gym more.
Alas, in the front of her mind, she knew it was just because her depression was making its round.
"Hi, gorgeous," Rueben said lightly behind her.
She watched the reflective glass as he walked into the bedroom and made his way over to her. Stealthily, she kept her eyes angled downward, staring at the way his abs flexed with each step he took. Only tearing her vision away when he leaned down to kiss her cheek, she looked at him.
"Morning, baby," Rayne replied.
"Have you eaten yet?"
She looked down at the mirror and shook her head shortly. This was what she meant—in the office yesterday when he was stitching her up, she might have let slip that she doesn't eat often; partly because she feels nauseous when she eats, and partly because she feels nauseous when she doesn't.
A sad cycle.
"How about I make you some French toast?" he asked sweetly.
"No," she frowned slightly, "Thank you, but I'll just eat a banana."
