Regrets

Chapter Fourteen

Lying in Vincent's bed, unwilling to get up, I start thinking. I have my doubts about Vincent "loving" me. That's why I didn't say it back.

I run my hands through my hair and throw the covers off me. The fresh, red cuts direct my attention away from all my fat. I've eaten so much in the past two months.

I inspect my cuts. Not bleeding. Didn't even break open. They're just really red. And I want to do more. Much more.

I am alone.

I get up, collect my things that are scattered on Vince's floor and find what to wear. I walk into the bathroom and step on the scale. I am 135.80. That is death. I need to lose weight. I take a shower and scrub myself raw wishing the fat would wash right off. When I get out I go on Vincent's laptop and search for gyms. I skip any kind of food even though the smell of waffles still lingers in the kitchen.

I do not eat breakfast.

I do not eat lunch.

But I am hungry.

The front door opens at five and James waltzes in.

"You're still here?" He laughs.

"It's going to take a lot more telling me about Vincent's past to get rid of me... I trust him." I confide.

James looks shocked. I know he knows whats really on my arm, and I also know he's not okay with it.

My scars are showing today, too. I guess I should invest in some sweaters and jeans instead of jean shorts and band t-shirts.

My face goes red as I notice James staring at me. I don't know what to think of it. I mean, sure, James is attractive, but I prefer Vincent. That'll never change... unless of course Vincent doesn't prefer me.

I clear my throat loudly and James eyes snap back up to mine.

"Have you eaten?" James asks.

"Yeah, I ate a little bit ago." I lie, and my stomach doesn't seem to like that. It makes a loud gurgling noise and my eyes widen as James just laughs.

"I don't think you have." He says, opening the fridge. "How about we call for pizza?" He closes the fridge and pulls out his iPhone.

I turn around and walk out of the kitchen into the living room, plopping down on the couch. James comes and sits in the chair across from me.

"Why aren't you eating?"

I hesitate, because I don't trust James. "I just didn't feel like cooking." I lie and this time, he believes it, nodding and grabbing the remote.

Not even thirty minutes pass before Vincent comes home.

"Hey babe." He says, planting a kiss on the top of my head. "James," he nods.

"I ordered pizza. Should be here soon." And as if on cue the buzzer goes off.

James lets the pizza guy in and tips him. He serves the pizza and Vincent brings me two slices. I smile up at him and he winks down at me.

As he sits next to me he whispers, "I know what you're doing, and it isn't going to pass here. Eat." I take the plate from him and take a bite.

Chew. Chew. Swallow. Bite. Chew. Chew. Swallow.

This is torture. He's totally ruined my "fast".

Bite. Chew. Chew. Swallow.

"See its good." Vincent smiles, nudging me with his elbow.

James puts his plate on the coffee table and grabs his glass. He takes a minute before speaking, "Do you know how loud you two are?"

I, taking another bite of my pizza, just about choke as Vincent throws back his head and laughs.