Page 42 of Vows in Sin

We broke down into fits of giggles over nothing, and that was that.

Both only children of working single mothers, we had ample free time to hang out at each other’s empty houses after school. There was no need to dampen our blooming friendship with the darkness of my past.

“I owe all my happiness at school to Tabitha. She really helped me start that new life.” The thought slips out. “I never told her about Alessi.”

“Maybe you should tell Tabitha. And Cleo. They are both such wonderful friends. You can trust them.”

“Yeah Mom, maybe I will.”

“And Sara?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. So, so sorry for what happened. I want you to know—I’m not that same person.”

The tears come before I can stop them.

We get off the phone, and I lie there on my bed, an easy calm coming over me.

Has the healing finally begun?

I need to call Tabitha. Tell her about Alessi. Thank her for being my friend. And I will. Just not right now.

Despite the progress I’ve made with Mom, the pain still lingers.

I want him.

I need him so badly.

I ache for him to make it go away, like only he can. It’s like he’s here right now, growling against me.You want Daddy’s beltagain?I feel myself tremble, my hair brushing against his beard as I nod.

Yes.

I want everything you give me.

I can’t go back. I have to stop begging for unhealthy attention from a man twice my age. I need to find alternative ways to heal. Quiet walks. Long swims. Flower arrangements.

Baring my naked ass in the back of a dark room so he can punish away the pain is so over.

He said that was the last time. And I agreed.

But the thought of never seeing him again makes an empty ache claw at me from inside. Tears are coming and all I want is for him to kiss them away. Then wrap those big strong arms around me and block out the world.

A thought hits me like a Reign smack to the ass. “I’ll never stop going to him, will I?” I can not keep going like this. I bury my face in my hands. “Oh my God. I’m hopeless!”

Without work to distract me, being alone in this apartment, the temptation to run to him is too great.

I need to get out of this city. It’s time to come clean to my best friend.

I begin recording a voice text for Cleopatra, hoping she’ll receive it when she wakes up.

I start with, “Hey, beautiful bride! I got fired from the PalmVolt project. I tried to stalk Dame Bachman after you told me he’d be at Gotcha,” then my voice trails off.

Dame will be in Italy.

The thought alone should make me hang up.

I try to picture confronting Dame on the Estate. I get…nothing.