SOF Chapter 23

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I lay awake in the bed. I stare at the ceiling. How am I suppose to be in love with him? How the hell did that happen?! How the hell can I love a man like him? A polyamorist?!

Fuck! Why did this had to happen to me? Why can't I be all icy-cool-feeling-like? You know, why can't I just not care about him?! Why does he have to be so freaking perfect?! Why does he have to do such loving and perfect things to me? Stupid me! Stupid me for falling in love with a guy who is in a relationship with seven other women as I lay in this bed with him! This is wrong. So wrong.

But why does it feel right then?

"Can't sleep either?" I hear his voice beside me.

"Yes"

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking. You?"

"The same. What about?"

"Everything, I guess. You?"
"My Family."

I continue staring at the ceiling.Lots of thing runs into my mind again. Would he have done what he did for every woman? Or did he just do it for me? I don't know. I have no comparison. No one has ever been in the Faulkerson/Grey/Sloane mansion. I wonder if that's good sign. I mean, he must've broken another one of his rules to get me in there. Damn it.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Not really. You?" I ask him back.

"Don't you want to know what Valerie said about you?"

"Horrible things I assume. I'll ask Patricia when we're back in Manhattan."

"Don't you want to hear it from me?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It'll make it only painful coming from you. Patricia on the other side....She can't hurt me."

"What do you mean by that? She's is your best friend."

"Yes. That's why. We've been through so much together that we're unable to hurt each other--no matter what we do or say." I explain and look at him for a second.

"I understand. She's like family."

"More than family, actually." I say and stare at the ceiling again.

"I'm fucked up, you know." He says after a minute of silence.

"You are perfect. Not fucked up."

"My mother was a crack whore." He says in a cool voice. My eyes move from the ceiling down to him beside me. "See? I'm fucked up."

"I'm more fucked up." I say and look at the ceiling again.

"I got raped at the age of fifteen." I say and feel his hand on mine only a second later. The electricity runs through my veins as soon as he touches me. Damn it.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, wait for it, it gets better. I got raped by husband number two and his best friend Thomas."

"That's-"

"Wait for it, it gets even more better. I got raped by the very same Thomas we just met a couple of hours ago. Eva's husband." I say and continue staring at the ceiling.

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