A Twist in Fate

T h i r t y - e i g h t

America's POV:

"Ughhh!" I groaned into pillow, punching the mattress with all my might, which was not much at the moment.

I had been staring at the wall for almost an hour since Maxon had walked me to my room.

One second, I was perfectly fine, the next second I found myself rethinking as my thoughts swayed back and forth in an ocean of restlessness where the shore of common sense seemed unreachable. I was simply too confused to process everything.

Kriss claimed that Nic had been lying to me the whole time. Knowing the conniving, viscous little liar she was, I shouldn't give a flying rat about her pathetic self. I didn't want to believe her but here I am, thinking of the tiny, but still there, possibility of it all. My heart hurt to even think of the fact that what she said was true.

It could be why Mary, Nicholas's mom, didn't think twice about my departure.

Had everything about our relationship been a lie?

Was his love a lie?

Was us a lie?

A hopeless sigh met the suffocated air of my room as the only person who could answer me was dead.

I felt my shoulders shag down, my body laying lifeless against the headboard of my bed. Closing my eyes proved futile as my mind paced mercilessly, slowly drowning in never ending theories (all of them made up of my imagination).

What was the point of this anyways?

Would thinking over the time I spent with Nic and regretting the smallest things bring him back or answer my questions? Would suspecting my own deceased husband do any good? I should be ashamed of myself for even thinking this in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, I let all these clouds of unnecessary, time wasting and mind boggling thoughts wither away.

Unconsciously a smile tugged my lips, as I drift to something that has my heart squealing.

Or rather someone.

What happened between Maxon and I - that moment everything felt so right, so normal, I couldn't have another care in the world.

It wasn't about feelings rising from the dead, cause they didn't - I had always felt this way about Maxon.

Marrying someone else and going to another continent couldn't change that.

Nothing can.

I never stopped loving him, and when our lips collided and moved against each other, all the feelings I had kept buried inside, came gushing out into that kiss.

The frustration, the anger, the agony, the anguish, the helplessness and hopelessness.

But there was also longing, that fleeting moment of finality, the joy and the feeling of belonging, being where I'm supposed to be.

I felt so alive with him.

Dwelling on the past of Nicholas and regretting everything I had with him, can't change what has already happened.

I would rather focus on my future, and just let go of the past.

Move on.

Move on from it all.

But was it really that easy?

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"America, Americaaa... America," whisperings and shuffling entered through the haze of my sleep, but I refused to listen.