BEAUTIFUL MESS [Book 2] | MIKHAIAH

11

I called Sam after making it to the sidewalk in a trance, and was soon whisked away to an apartment he had rented on the waterfront. It was a testament to wealth, and it made me think of Amaia again. This ease of life was something she struggled to comprehend.

I looked at Sam through foggy, tear-filled eyes as he made me a cup of hot chocolate in his decked-out kitchen. Wasn't he and Steph the epitome of spoiled rich kids getting everything they wanted? Shouldn't she detest them, too? I sighed. Amaia had loved me once despite how spoiled and sheltered I was.

"Here," he said, handing me the drink I no longer wanted. I craved something that would rip the lining off my esophagus and render me inebriated.

Putting the beverage on the side table, I leaned back into the incredibly comfortable sofa and looked out over the city.

"So, what happened?"

I kept my eyes fixated out the window. "We broke up." My voice was monotone, raspy, and quiet.

"Why?"

"I'm...I'm..." I growled quietly. "I'm not what she needs."

"What she needs?"

I nodded.

"You sure about that?"

"She doesn't mince words."

"No, I suppose she doesn't."

I took a shaky breath and wrapped my arms around my torso. Why did I feel so cold?

"Is she important to you?" Sam asked.

A wet sounding rush of breath that was supposed to be a scoff came out. Sam handed me a box of tissues. I was exhausted and didn't want to deal with anything at all.

"I need to sleep," I said in answer to his question.

He nodded and led me to what I discovered the next day was the one and only bedroom in the apartment. Sleep was fitful, and I woke with gritty eyes, a puffy face, and no desire to do anything.

Despite that, I levered my way out of Sam's bed and stumbled into the kitchen.

"Holy shit. You look horrible."

I blinked and gave Steph a droll stare. Where the hell had she come from?

"Here." Sam pushed a cup of coffee over his marble counter as I sat in a leather covered stool.

I muttered thanks and inhaled the smell of caffeine. The way I felt, I think I needed it inserted via a drip.

"So, you broke up? Why?" Steph asked.

I looked at Steph and shrugged. "Incompatible?"

She nodded. "That's a given, but you made a really good odd couple." Steph leaned over the counter. "Was it the drinking?"

I lowered my eyes. The drinking...that had started Amaia's rant in her hungover state. "No, not the drinking. It's me. I'm not what she needs." I snorted quietly to myself. "She doesn't need anyone."

I looked up to find Steph squinting at me and Sam staring at me with a mournful expression. He gave me an encouraging smile. What it was supposed to encourage me to do was unclear. I had no energy to interpret it.

Pushing the coffee away, I excused myself. After a quick shower, I escaped the confines of Sam's pity and distracted myself with another day full of observing and participating in vaginal swabs.