It's four in the morning. I slept through practically all day, and now Killian is in his office.
I sit at the island, a single, mini cupcake sitting on a plate with a candle.
April twentieth. The very day I was born. Twenty-eight years ago.
I breathe in a heavy sigh. My life has turned into a total shit show.
"Happy birthday to me." I mumble to myself. Leaning forward, I blow out the candle. Today completely snuck up on me. Guess no one else has noticed it yet.
I drive a finger through the frosting, licking it off. Before I know it, I'm dialing his number. It goes to voicemail, of course.
"Hey, it's me," I say with a smile. "Of course." I mumble. "So, you weren't alive when this happened, but, my ex is back." I let out a quiet, hollow laugh. "He kidnapped me. He abused me. He raped me. And I killed him, but he– he survived. And he's back, and—" I place my elbows on the counter, rubbing my eyes as my voice breaks, "My life is shit, Ollie. I just want to go back to high school years. Back when we were happy, you know?"
A single tear slips down my face and I wipe it.
I sigh. "I really miss you. Even though I'm-I'm married, and I fell in love. You were my first, and sometimes I see you in him. I see you everywhere I go, Ollie, and I hate it." A quiet sob shakes my body. "I hate it because I know it's my fault you're gone."
Just then, the voicemail ends.
I try to stay quiet as everything I let build up flows like a river of pain and grief. I lay my head down on my arms, crying.
I don't realize I've fallen asleep until I feel a hand on my back. "Evelyn." A voice whispers. I hum. "You need to go to bed. You can't sleep here." I hum again, flipping my head away.
I hear them sigh before I'm being picked up. I rest my head against them, my arms wrapped around their neck, as I bask in the warmth they emit. I fall back asleep, waking when I feel a bed underneath me.
I curl into it as a blanket is placed over me. "Mm." I hum. "It smells like him."
"Get some sleep." I breathe out a sigh, comfortable, and fall back asleep.
***
Waking up, I smell something sweet and delicious. I wipe my face, groaning.
That is quite literally the best sleep I've had in a while.
I wrap the blanket around me and carry it with me downstairs. I enter the kitchen, glass no longer on the floor. "Morning, sunshine."
I groan lightly, moving to the island and reaching for one of the waffles. He slaps my hand. "Hey." I whine.
"Patience." I scowl but sit on a barstool.
YOU ARE READING
One of the Last | Book 3 | ✔
Fantasy𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐭. ~ For five years, Evelyn turned up missing. Locked at the bottom of an endless void of water in a metal safe. Trapped in a coma of her own. Though she returns, nothi...