ATHENA
“Just tell me the truth. I won't be mad.” Isabelle says as she jumps in my bed.
“Something happened between you two, right?”
I play dumb.
“Nothing happened.”
“Girl. Did you sleep with him?” Her eyes widen.
This is why I hate Isabelle’s good observation skills. It's impossible to get something past her.
“No. I mean not in that way. We just shared a bed because only one was left. Besides, I was on my period!”
My cheeks warm at the memory of how cute he looked as he fumbled with words not knowing what to do. I've never seen him hesitate as much as he did that day.
It was as if…
Woah!
Why am I thinking about him? Like that?
“Bitch, you're smiling!”
I whip the pillow at her face. “Shut up!”
Isabelle dodges it dramatically like she’s in an action movie, then grabs it and hugs it to her chest.
“That smile was not innocent,” she eyes me. “Spit It out! Did you get back with him?”
I slowly shake my head.
Did I though?
“Athena-”
“You're going to give me a speech about Zayan aren't you?” I lay down facing the ceiling.
She sighs.
“He is a good man and wouldn't hurt you. Alex on the other hand is the worse of the worst. The man has no morals and the law doesn’t apply to him. With that tattooed guy by his side, they look like they Kill for sport and work at the company as a disguise.”
I snort, turning my head toward her.
“You’re make them sound like they own a cartel and they sell human parts.”
She doesn’t laugh.
Silence stretches for a second too long.
My stomach drops. “Isabelle?”
She looks at me seriously now, with no hint of her usual sarcasm.
“Athena, you know I love you and only want what's best for you.”
I hate that she’s right.
I hate it even more that I'm so conflicted the thought of staying away from him is tearing my heart into shreds.
“He's not a bad person.” I whisper.
“To you? Maybe.” she challenges, sitting up straighter. “To others, highly debatable.”
She reaches over and holds my hands into hers, “I know you like him. Maybe you even love him,” she softens. “But you need to protect your heart, Athena. Alex doesn’t just carry chaos, he is chaos.”
I want to argue, to defend him.
But the words won’t come.
Because deep down, I’ve always known she wasn’t wrong. Alex doesn’t walk into lives. He tears through them like a storm.
And the worst part?
Some sick, twisted part of me misses the storm when it’s gone.
“I’m not getting back with him,” I lie l, mostly to myself.
Isabelle stares at me, like she’s trying to read between the lines.
Then she lies back beside me, quiet for a moment, before whispering,
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