Recover: Book 2 of the Magic Mutations Series | ✓

51: Hate, Hurt, and Heal

When I walked back into the apartment some hours later, the first thing I noticed was that Erica had finished washing the dishes for me after I had forgotten it in the heat of our disagreement.

The place was so silent, I could hear the faint snores from Jayce and Ben echoing through the house as I stumbled in and switched on the small light in the living room. 

And inside was merely a reflection of outside. 

After I had taken my fill from a sheep on nearby farmland, the small town of Raphoe had already gone to sleep, leaving just me with my wandering thoughts as I crept through the town at snail pace back to our accommodation. It had been so long since I had properly escaped London, being just myself in the countryside, able to stare up at the stars speckling the night sky. In some ways, it made me miss my youth. But in others, I remembered the terrors that came with it.

With those memories niggling at my mind, when I got back, I decided to fetch my copy of Frankenstein from my room, curling up by the fireplace in the living room to read it. The monsters in this book were certainly more palatable than the monsters of my past and the one growing in me.

But the peace and silence the escapism Shelley's world afforded me only lasted so long.

Down the hallway, a door creaked open, with soft footsteps I instantly recognised padding across the floorboards.

Fingers gripping the book harder, I struggled to maintain my focus on the words in front of me, doing my best to not acknowledge her. Because I didn't want to know if she had more bruises across her flesh—more marks from the man she had chosen instead of me.

But as she entered the living room, her movements came to a stop. 

I paused, midway through flipping a page, taking a deep breath as her scent filled the room and my nose, the familiar lullaby of her heart caressing my ears, and my bond string glowing brightly, happy to know she was looking at me. 

Then I continued reading as though she hadn't just momentarily made my head feel light and my heart flutter with delight.

"Someone's into their horror right now," she mumbled, a little bit of annoyance lacing her tone as she continued to walk to the kitchen.

"Heard that," I muttered back, keeping my eyes focussed on my book.

But then, after she flipped on the kettle switch, she softly said, "Want a tea?"

Finally, I let my eyes glance up from the words, meeting her evergreen gaze glistening at me across the way. Despite our fight, her eyes only glowed with warmth for me, making my heart throb even more. My eyes flickered over her, taking more of her in, noticing the new bruise on her neck. His shirt, hanging loose from her chest. Tracksuit pants clinging around her waist. She was always so damn beautiful without having to try.

But as she continued to stare, waiting me out for an answer, I finally nodded. 

Then I turned back to my book, trying to pretend she wasn't here. Trying to calm my racing heart that begged me to flee to her side and wrap my arms around her until she forgot him and only remembered me.

Fuck this hurts, I thought.

As she set down the drinks on the table in front of us some minutes later, I could feel her expectant eyes burning into me. 

I mumbled my thanks but kept my gaze on my book, unable to withstand what could be swirling on her face if I looked up. I was not quite ready to forgive her for forgiving Ben. Because the anger that came with that reluctancy made coping with the loss of her so much easier.