Breed Me. Daddy Alpha novel Chapter 55

The Pam Of Knowing

The Pain Of Knowing

~Lyra~

The second the cold air hit my face, I lost it.

I didn’t even make it down the steps. I just collapsed onto the front porch like my legs gave out, like my body finally got the memo that my soul had already left the chat. My knees hit the concrete, and I curled in on myself, hugging my arms so tight around my chest you’d think I was trying to hold my heart in place.

And then I started crying.

Not cute crying. Not sniffles or delicate tears or the kind of weeping you do in slow–motion under the rain with dramatic piano music. No. This was the ugly kind.

The loud, snotty, gasping kind. My nose was running. My face was soaked. My eyeliner had given up and was now somewhere halfway down my chin. My chest felt like it was caving in, and my breath kept catching like my lungs were glitching.

And the worst part?

I couldn’t stop talking.

“f**k,” I whispered first, the word dragging out of my mouth like it weighed five tons. “f**k. f**k. Oh my God. What the hell was that. What the actual hell did I just do.”

I wiped my face, but it didn’t help. My hands were shaking too much to do anything right.

“I kicked him in the balls. I f*****g kicked him. Like, actually. Not metaphorically. Like, in front of everyone. And the wedgie? Who the hell gives someone a wedgie in 2025? Am I a cartoon villain? What the f**k is

wrong with me?”

More sobs came. I tried to breathe through them, but every inhale made it worse, like oxygen was bullying

1. me.

“I pulled his pants down. Jesus. I pulled his f*****g pants down. Like I’m some revenge–obsessed freak who

gets off on public humiliation. I’m gonna go viral, aren’t I? Someone’s gonna post it on t****k with a dumb

sound and a million likes and a hashtag like #WedgieWarrior or #HeartbreakHazard and oh my God-”

I stopped. Choked on a sob. Slammed both fists into my thighs.

H

“Why did it have to be them?” I shouted, to no one, to the sky, to the moon or whatever god was watching.”

Why her? Why him? Why the two people I actually gave a f**k about? Like couldn’t it have been a stranger? A

one–night mistake? A rumor that wasn’t true? But no. No. It had to be my best f*****g friend and the boy I

almost gave everything to.”

I rocked back and forth like I was five years old again, crying after scraping my knee. But this wasn’t a scrape. This was a full–body amputation of every last bit of trust I had left.

“I loved him,” I whispered. “Or I thought I did. I thought he was the one. He was supposed to be the one. But

he’s a f*****g jerk”

I laughed. It was a broken, wét sound.

“And Tasha. Oh my God, Tasha. My sister. My ride or die. My ‘if he breaks your heart, I’ll kill him myself‘

III

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1/5

The Pain Of Khoavind

friend. She said that to me. She f*****g said that. And then what? She turned around and gave him head in a

car? In a bedroom? In a broom closet? Did they f**k in our house? Was it on the couch where we watch

movies? Was it in my bed?! Oh God..”

I slapped my forehead. “Okay. No. No. Don’t spiral. Too late. Already spiraling. Already going full mental

breakdown Barbie.”

I sniffed. Rubbed my face again. Smudged makeup just… everywhere. I was a whole disaster movie. Tornado

in a dress. Hurricane in heels.

“What if I never trust anyone again?” I asked out loud, voice high and panicked and trembling. “What if this messed me up forever? What if I never believe anyone ever again and I turn into one of those cold, stone–faced girls with no emotions and a black turtleneck who just laughs when men say they love her and then stabs them with her eyes?”

1 hiccuped.

“I don’t want to be that girl.”

Another wave of sobs hit me.

“I just wanted to feel safe. That’s all I ever f*****g wanted. I just wanted to be loved and respected and

wanted in a way that didn’t make me feel like my body was a transaction. I didn’t want to be cool or hot or

easy. I just wanted someone to see me and say, ‘You’re enough even if you never take your clothes off.”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my trembling hand.

“And instead, I got a boy who called me boring and a best friend who called me dramatic while she had his

d**k in her mouth.”

I choked.

“God. Why do I talk like this.”

I started laughing again, but it was the manic kind, like the cry was too deep and too sharp so it turned into a

giggle halfway through.

“I’m a mess. I’m a full disaster. I’m going to end up in someone’s group chat as a meme. ‘Girl loses it after pulling ex’s pants down.‘ I bet someone’s editing it right now with an Afrobeat track in the background. I bet Marcus is still inside trying to fix his underwear.”

I paused. The thought of him trying to yank his crusty briefs back into place made me snort through my

tears.

And for half a second, I felt okay.

Then the silence hit again. Heavy. Cold. Real.

And I whispered the worst part.

“I still loved tasha even if she hurt me”

I pressed my palms to my face, like I could physically push the thoughts away, but they just kept coming, crashing over me like ocean waves that refused to back off.

“She’s my best friend. She’s my best friend,” I sobbed, shaking my head like I couldn’t believe my own truth.” She was the one person who knew all of it. Every part.

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2/5

The am 07 Knowing

Every stupid little piece of me. She was there through my first heartbreak, my period cramps, my panic

attacks before school presentations, the time I thought I had a brain tumor just because I had a headache for three days.

She brought me cupcakes when my crush rejected me. She held my hair when I cried. We made stupid Tik Toks in pajamas and swore we’d live together forover in an apartment with a pink toaster and matching mugs.”

My throat clenched. My whole body trembled.

“She’s Tasha, for God’s sake. She knows the name I used to give my teddy bear. She knows my mom’s ringtone. She’s seen me ugly cry over celebrities and dance like a cracked–out giraffe in my room. I told her everything. Every stupid fear. Every fantasy. Every dream.”

Heaned back, head thudding against the wall behind me, eyes staring at the sky even though everything was

blurry and burning.

“And yeah, she messed up. She f****d up. She broke me in a way I didn’t think she ever could. But the worst part? The worst part isn’t even what she did. It’s that I still love her.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, let the tears fall sideways down my cheeks, sticky and hot and raw.

“Because love doesn’t just vanish. Not real love. It doesn’t dissolve just because someone stabbed you with it. And that’s the part that kills me. That I’m sitting here, shattered and humiliated and covered in my own. snot, and I still want her to come out here. I still want her to explain. I still want her to cry and say sorry and

mean it.”

Пlaughed bitterly.

“I’m the i***t who still wants the person who wrecked me to help clean it up.”

I wiped my face with both hands again, huffing out another broken breath as my chest rose and fell too fast to keep up with.

“She was supposed to be my person. The kind you call at 2 a.m. when the world feels like it’s ending. The

kind you never expect to hold the knife, let alone twist it. And she didn’t just twist it. She carved my name into it. She let me look her in the face, night after night, while she kept that secret tucked behind her tongue like

gum she couldn’t spit out.“.

My voice cracked again. My words started slurring together between sobs.

“I just..I don’t get it. Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she come clean? If it was really just once, why didn’t

she fall at my feet the moment it happened? I would’ve been mad, yeah. I probably would’ve screamed and

broken things and ghosted her for a week. But I would’ve come back. I always come back.”

I stared straight ahead at nothing, chest aching like I’d been punched from the inside out.

“I would’ve forgiven her. Because she’s Tasha. And I loved her more than I loved any boy. More than I loved

any grade or dress or plan for the future. She was my home.”

Another sob clawed its way up my throat.

As I heard the front door creak open.

And soft footsteps behind me.

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The Pam Of Knowind

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

I didn’t have to. The guilt was so thick in the air I could smell it. That mix of perfume, regret, and the weight of knowing you ruined something pure. She didn’t say anything at first. She just stood there.

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