Through the Dark

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When I got home that afternoon, a wave of exhaustion hit me—not just physical, but deep in my bones, mental and emotional. My mind kept replaying Aunt Martha's call, the cruel words, the way she tried to tear me down. She was hunting me again. After everything I'd gone through, after all the years I'd spent trying to forget, why now?

I've worked so hard to move on, to heal, to build a life that I can finally call my own. I've tried so fiercely to leave the past behind. And yet, here it was, creeping back, threatening to drag me into the misery I'd fought so hard to escape.

After two years of freedom, of happiness, why now? Why when I'm finally living my life fully, enjoying the present, dreaming about the future?

Why does my past refuse to let me go?

I don't want to go back to that life. I don't want to feel that helplessness, that despair, that pain ever again. I want to leave it behind, lock it away where it can't touch me. I want to focus on today, on the life I've built, on the happiness I've earned. I want to move forward—finally, fully, without looking back.

*****

Around 5:00 in the afternoon, the doorbell rang. I trudged to the door, still feeling drained, and opened it—only to have Stacy barreling in without even saying hello. She carried a huge purse overflowing with makeup, hair tools, and all sorts of girly essentials. Without missing a beat, she made herself comfortable on my couch.

"What the hell, Stace?!" I blurted, blinking at her in disbelief. "Why are you here—and why did you bring your entire beauty salon with you?"

"Are you insane?! Did you forget about your date with Mr. Hottie?!" she exclaimed, looking genuinely shocked.

"What?! A date? Mr. Hot—"

Oh shit. I almost forgot

"Oh... right. Of course I have a date," I said, warily. "So... I guess you're here to help me get ready?"

"Oh yes, my dear! I am beyond excited!" She grinned, digging into her bag. "I've got everything—makeup, hair dryer, curling iron... oh! Just no dress, so I'm counting on you to pick one from your closet."

"Don't worry. I've got you covered," I said, gesturing toward my wardrobe.

"Perfect! Let's get started!" she squealed, practically bouncing in her seat.

*****

After an hour and a half of getting ready, Stacy guided me to the full-length mirror. "Shocked" barely covers it. My loose curls tumbled halfway down my back, my makeup looked effortlessly flawless, and my black cocktail dress paired with red stilettos fit me like a glove.

I actually liked what I saw.

"Oh my God, Stacy! I look like a model! How did you even do this?" I exclaimed, barely believing the reflection before me.

Stacy shrugged casually, a proud smile on her face. "Oh, just a little of this, a touch of that. Magic, really. So... what time will Mr. Hottie be here? It's almost 7:00," she asked.

Right on cue, my phone buzzed with a text from Harry.

I quickly read Harry's message:

Hey Sweet cheeks. I'm on my way to pick you up. I'll be there in about 15 minutes. I know I'm a little early, but I really can't wait to see you. X – H

I typed back immediately:

Sure. I'll be waiting. See you in a bit. – S

Turning to Stacy, I said, "He's on his way. Should be here in about 15 minutes."