68. | Poisoned

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It's four in the morning

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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.

One of the Last | Book 3 | ✔Where stories live. Discover now