Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me novel Chapter 156

Chapter 156

APRIL’S POV

Manic giggles greet me as I open the door of my apartment.

“Stop!” Louise is squealing. “I swear I’m going to pee my pants.”

“Then admit it!” another voice joins in, deep and warm–Malik.

My suitcase rolls noisily behind me as I close the door and walk in, but they’re too busy wrestling on the carpet and laughing like

crackheads to notice or hear me.

“Never!”

“I’m going to tickle you to death!”

“You’ll never survive jail–April?”

I freeze in my tracks and sigh. I was halfway to my room, hoping I could get there without being noticed.

I turn back, a forced smile plastered on my face.

“Hi, Lou.”

(4)]

Malik is on top of her, his hands frozen on her side, her shirt bunched up under her boobs. She pushes against his chest and he moves, sitting up on his haunches.

Lou sits up, too, twisting her body so she can look at me. “What are you doing here?”

I shrug. “Surprise,” I say weakly.

She frowns. “Wha-” Her gaze flickers to my suitcase, and she blinks as realization dawns on her.

She looks back at me, and I keep my smile locked in place. “April-”

“I’m actually pretty beat, Lou,” I cut her off. Because if she keeps talking, the sympathy on her face will creep into her words. And then she’ll stand and give me a hug, and I will die.

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

She moves towards me, and I see the protest ready on her face, but Malik places a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She glances at him, and I see the silent conversation that passes between them.

She turns back to me, and her smile is just as forced as mine. “Okay, hon. Get some rest.”

I nod and turn around.

“April?”

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Chapter 156

I turn back to see her face soften. “I missed you.”

My smile is a little less forced. “I missed you, too, Lou.”

:

My room is the same as I left it the last time I was here–with Nathan.

1 inhale deeply, taking in the feeling of home. It’s tiny and old and falling apart, but it’s home. And there’s no place like-

My eyes land on my desk chair–on the black leather jacket hanging on the back of it.

I didn’t even realize Nathan didn’t take it with him when we were leaving.

Maybe we’ll both start a collection.

I move, abandoning my suitcase at the door.

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I don’t want to touch the jacket, don’t want to have anything to do with it. But my hand has a mind of its own and reaches out, gathering it to me. My head dips, and my stupid fucking nose inhales.

Nathan’s scent invades my senses, as sharp and potent as I assume a hit of cocaine feels.

My legs give out, and I drop into the desk chair, pulling my legs up to the edge. I stuff my face into the jacket, inhaling and inhaling and

inhaling.

I’d rather eat shit.

My shoulders shake. The chair tilts, creaking loudly as I throw my head back, and my body vibrates with laughter.

Sharp, choppy sounds escape me. I probably sound like I’m choking. But I’m laughing.

Because it’s funny.

It’s all so fucking hilarious.

It’s one gigantic joke, my life.

I imagine a stand–up comedian doing a bit.

So get this, our girl April thought the douchebag who humiliated her in high school could actually love her. She gave him her heart and her virginity, and he gave her–drumroll please…character development!‘

I spill out of the chair to the floor, trembling with hysterical laughter.

I laugh and laugh and laugh. I laugh till my throat is hoarse and my chest aches. I laugh till tears spill out of my eyes, soaking Nathan’s jacket.

I laugh till I can’t breathe,

And when I’m done, when my body is wrung out and I’m physically exhausted from all the laughter, I roll over on my back and stare at

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Chapter 156

the ceiling, still clutching the jacket to me.

:.

It smells so much like him. It feels like he’s here, like I’m holding him and not an item of clothing.

I close my eyes and imagine he is here. That his arms are around me and he’s holding me.

I think… I think something is wrong with me. I feel…unplugged. Disconnected.

There are a million things I should be feeling, but when I reach for them… Nothing.

I should be sad, devastated, inconsolable, right?

Isn’t that what heartbreak feels like?

Shouldn’t that be the reaction of a girl who just heard the love of her life say all those…things?

To be fair, Nathan didn’t really say much. I did most of the talking. Questions he barely answered, demands he didn’t meet.

Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m not feeling the emotions because he didn’t say the words. He didn’t say he didn’t love me.

So, maybe he still does.

Laughter bubbles up from my throat. He’d rather eat shit than marry her, but yeah, folks, he definitely still loves her.

I curl up on my side, around the jacket, as if I can trap the scent and keep it forever. Because I might never-

I freeze.

I might never see Nathan again.

I sit up, my eyes wide as the thoughts drop in my mind like mini–grenades.

I might never see Nathan again.

Never hold him again.

Never smell him again.

Never kiss him again.

Never hear the sound of his voice, Of his laughter.

My mouth parts, and I think I want to scream, but no sound comes out. What stage of grief is this?

Because it’s not the heart–wrenching pain I felt when my parents died, it’s not the dissociating numbness when June got hurt. It’s just…nothing and everything all at once,

We had a plan. It was going to be okay. And now it’s…

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