Page 105 of Lilah

I feel utterly terrible for ignoring Grey's calls and his texts but I know if I don't then he'll convince me to see him and Ido notwant afedto see what Dad has done.

It's even worse than telling Aaron.

Friday, exactly a week and one day after receiving the welts on my back, I can finally move around and do things with less struggle or pain.

After cleaning my closet out, I get in the tub and take a nice warm and relaxing bath.

My phone rings from the sink where I sat it. My heart hurts at the thought of me ignoring Grey.

I want to fall in love with you.

Those words buttered my biscuit in an unimaginably perfect way. To even think that someone, anyone, would even like me like that is wild to me.

After my bath, I feel refreshed and content for the first time in a week. And I know I smell amazing.

I throw on a lilac-colored sports bra and a huge oversized T-shirt.

I walk into my room running my fingers through my wet hair and I have a full blown heart attack upon seeing the man in my room.

I grasp my heart and gasp loudly. Although my heart fills with happiness as I see him for the first time in a week, his face is not happy.

Wait, he can't be here.

"Grey you can't be here, you have to leave," I rush out. If Dad sees him here, gosh knows what he'd do to me after he'd leave.

How did he get in anyway?

Oh, what if he's the type of fed that sneaks into houses to catch people?

"The fuck do you mean I can't be here?" He asks unhappily.

"You ignore me for a fucking week and as soon as Ifinallysee you, you tell me to leave?"

I feel terrible. I'm a terrible person.

"I know, I know," I nod completely taking the blame.

Am I selfish for not wanting to get hit with the belt again?

I wouldn't want Grey to feel upset. Maybe another whipping for him to feel better is okay.

"I'm sorry Grey," I tell him sincerely and he softens.

"I don't know how I haven't ruined this thing," he lifts up the scrunchie, "stressing over you."

I walk to him and wrap my arms around his waist. He moves to wrap his arms around me but I catch them before he can touch my back and I place them back down by his side.

He tenses.

"Why won't you let me touch you?" His voice goes unhappy.

"How'd you get in?" I redirect the conversation. I release his waist and walk over to my window.

"The door was open," he says and I look down into our driveway.

Dad's car isn't here.

I breathe a breath of relief turning back to him.