PUPPY

CHAPTER 22

I woke up inside Neil's bedroom. I'm not proud of what I was about to do yesterday. I'm so ashamed of myself.

Neil was laying right next to me.

I hate the effect that my mother still has on me. After all this time she can still push me into a corner and make me do what she wants.

I slowly slid from the bed and walked out of the room. I fixed myself a coffee. While I was waiting for the water to boil, I rummaged through Neil's coats and pants to find a box of cigarettes. When I did, to my surprise, only two were left in the box.

Someone was nervous.

I picked the coffee with a splash of milk, a cigarette and a lighter. I walked on the balcony into the cold weather. Maybe the cold will help me clear my mind.

I lit it and let the smoke out of my lungs before taking a sip. It has been a long time since I did this morning routine. Drink coffee and smoke.

I'm such a mess. I feel like a bull in a china shop.

When I finished one cigarette, I went to get another and refill my cup. When I came back, little snowflakes were falling.

What should I do?

What do I say to Neil?

Do I apologise?

Do I explain to him everything my mother put me through so that he knows that I'm a mess?

I don't know what to do!

I-

"Do you plan on catching a cold?"

I looked back at Neil who was standing at the window. I ducked my head down and stayed silent.

He walked out next to me. I picked up the cigarette and threw it over the railing. Then he snatched the coffee from my hands and poured it into a random pot.

He picked my hand into his and dragged me behind him. "Let's get you inside. I'll make you pancakes."

I sat on the stool and watched him cook. A good fifteen minutes passed before I decided to speak.

"Master."

"Yes?"

"Aren't you curious?"

He looked away from the stove and asked: "About what?"

The words were forced out of me. "About yesterday?"

He looked back at the sizzling prosciutto and pancakes before saying: "It doesn't matter if I'm curious or not. If you don't want to talk, I can't force you to."

I stayed silent.

"That silence sounds like 'I don't want to talk'. I'm always here to listen to you whenever you want me to."

He's right, I don't want to talk about it. But I feel like I must. I think that I owe him that much after trying to leave him without a second thought.

"I need to talk about it."

He closed the stove and faced me. "Start whenever you feel comfortable."

As much as I try to avoid telling anyone about my parents, maybe he will understand. At least, I hope he does. If he leaves me, I'll become a walking corpse.

"Before I say anything I want you to promise one thing. Only one-"

Without a bat of a lash, he said: "I promise."

"You don't even know what you're promising."

He shrugs his shoulders. "It doesn't matter what I promised you. Whatever you're gonna tell me, it's not going to make me stop loving you."