I squeezed them shut, wanting to go back to sleep for just a minute longer. But then, I felt warmth. It wasn't the kind from blankets or sunshine—no it was from being held. My cheek was pressed against bare skin—a chest that was rising and falling beneath me in a slow, steady rhythm that lulled me for a second.
Until everything that happened last night flooded back to me.
Me waking up from another nightmare filled with my living one, Andrew.
Me sneaking out in the storm because I needed Nathan.
Me almost crashing into a fallen tree and my car dying.
Me telling Nathan everything.
Me letting my walls down and choosing myself for the first time.
I didn't regret it, sleeping with Nathan. Because for the first time, it was my choice.
Carefully, I slipped from beneath Nathan's arm, lifting it gently. His hand twitched, and I paused, holding my breath, watching his face for any sign of waking. There was nothing but the furrowing of his brows and a soft, peaceful look on his face that made my chest ache a little with how much I loved him.
I padded across the room, grabbing the black t-shirt he'd tossed off last night—my mouth twitched at the memory—and ducked into the bathroom. Pulling it over my head, tugging the hem down past my thighs, and stood in front of the mirror.
I didn't recognize the girl staring back at me.
Same curls—now wild and tangled around my face.
Same eyes—hazel, tired but not empty.
The necklace around my neck caught the light, that little moonstone glowing against my skin. The engraving on the back pressed against my chest like a quiet reminder.
Twenty-three.
Gone was the broken girl with the haunting eyes that held lies. Lies of pretending that everything was fine. Pretending that Andrew didn't terrify me and the constant risk that his mere presence threatened not only me but everyone around me.
