The Hollows In Our Freedom | 'Hollows' Book Ⅲ

Chapter Seventy

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T h e H o l l o w s I n 
O U R F R E E D O M
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A L E X I

I woke up, Jace's arms wrapped around me. But I felt as though I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve him.

Last night, I had made out with Jonah. I didn't have sex with him, but I made out with him.

It really depended on what you defined as cheating, and what you defined as a relationship.

Jace had never asked me to be his girlfriend. I had never asked him to be my boyfriend. And although the thought of having Jace as my boyfriend joyed me, we had never asked—we had only told each other that we loved them.

But was that it? Was that enough to define a relationship? Or does it need to be said, need to be written down?

The second issue was the definition of 'cheating'. If Jace defined a heavy make-out session as cheating, and we were in a relationship, I guess I had cheated.

I know that everyone would be screaming at me if I told this story to them, but it's okay because I know it too. I know I cheated. I could just feel it.

I guess that's it. Perhaps the other person doesn't think it's cheating, but you'll be able to feel it. Of course, there'll be exceptions, for example, for those who lack a moral compass. I didn't know if it was an achievement or drawback that I actually had one.

Despite all the trivial matters, my subconscious knew what I had done. I felt as though I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve him.

I cheated on him. Jace didn't know that. But I was certain.

He stirred suddenly, scaring me for a moment.

"Morning," Jace said, rubbing at his eyes before taking running his fingers through my hair.

"Morning," I responded, staring up at the ceiling.

Last night, I had lied to Jace. I could've told him then, could've admitted the truth. But it was much too late now—I have both cheated and lied.

"Hey," Jace said suddenly, hoisting himself up so that he was leaning on his elbow and facing me. "You okay?" He asked, and I could feel his eyes scanning me.

I looked away from the ceiling to smile up at him. "Of course, how are you?" I asked.

He seemed to frown, albeit not very noticeable. "Have you seen her lately?" He asked, making me frown. What?

"What?" I asked, echoing my thoughts, "who?"

His expression seemed to soften. "Sapphire."

Oh.

I had seen her. In fact, I think my guilt over what I did to Jace made it worse. Perhaps because I committed the act with Jonah—her boyfriend when she had been alive.

I swallowed. "No," I told him, watching his lip twitch slightly. "I guess it was just a one-off thing—like maybe I saw her out of shock."

He stared at me for a few moments. "You're lying."

My eyes widened slightly; he really could read me. I was a failure at reading him—I think perhaps his therapist exterior threw me off. He shows his emotions frequently, but he tries to be moral and modest about it.

I think it was easy to hide the truth from him last night because I had used the ruse of tidying up the bathroom and changing the towels to take his eyes off me. Such a coverup was not possible now, not when I was in bed with him, with him hovering over me, about two centimetres away from my face.