Chapter 122

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EZRA

As I roll over towards Rachel's side of the bed, I try to reach for her, but all I reach for is the cold and empty sheets; I sit up to see the kitchen light is on. I grab my shorts, slip them on, and head towards the door.

...

I rub my eye to wake myself up and see Rachel putting a casserole dish inside the oven; it looks like brownies baking. Then she turns around, "AHHH!" she jumps and drops the spatula, "You scared the crap out of me." I laugh at how easily she gets scared, "What are you doing?" I ask, checking Anglea's door to see if she's still sleeping.

"Sorry, love," I apologize. I come around the aisle and can barely breathe from her, wearing nothing, I suppose, besides my white t-shirt, where it's shaping the outline of her smooth breast to her hips and the way she swings them as listing to music, "Are you making brownies? They smelled delicious when I walked in," I told her.

Rachel nods yes, "I was hungry, so I wanted to make something instead of thinking about the horrible conversation I had," she says before licking the chocolate-filled spatula, and some chocolate lands on the corner of her mouth, "You got some," I try to mention it to her, but we start laughing. She wipes the batter off on a towel, "My mother thinks you are no good for me and thinks you are like Wyatt."

I swear, every time I hear that prick's name coming out of my mouth or hers, I want to vomit uncontrollably because that's how much it pains me that Wyatt hurt Rachel the way he did, and her own mother would bring him up like it's nothing. I shake my head in disgust, place my head on her face and kiss her small nose, "I know he hurted you. And I know I did a lot worse, but I would never hurt you that way he ever did. I love you ever to do that,".

Rachel smiles in a crooked sorta way, "I would never hurt you too. I love you," she repeats my way, but somehow she says more romantically than I did; she slowly kisses me and then goes check the brownies but immediately lift her onto the corner before she can open the door, "What are...."

"Shh, be quiet. Can you be quiet? You wouldn't want to wake your mother, right?" I ask, and she nods no.

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