Stained

Chapter 123

I startle and tears immediately flood my eyes as fear strikes me like a lightning bolt and I'm jerked back into the past.

"Rose," Damien breathes, regret tinging his voice and pulling me back to the present.

But it is too late. The horrifying moment has already been played in my head. My personal space has been invaded, however, instead of the teachers face, I see his, shouting in my face as I struggle to get away from him.

Anguish tears into my chest, cutting my consciousness down to only anger. It's selfish, but I hold onto it because it's the only thing stopping me from breaking down again.

Masking my features, I face the road. I was going to ask him if he wanted me to take him to his house since he doesn't look like he's in the mood to be around anyone in a packed cafe.

When I move to change gears, he grabs my hand over the knob. "I was angry, I didn't mean to take it out on you." He gives it a light squeeze. "I'm sorry."

I try to swallow but the painful lump lodged in my throat won't let me. I try and try and try but it just won't budge.

"I'm sorry." He repeats when I don't respond.

"I don't care," I pry my hand out of his. It's then that I notice my hand is shaking. I ball it up into a fist and drive with only one hand until it doesn't shake as vigorously.

I'm ashamed to admit that the only way I manage to is by directing all my rage over the past two hours onto him.

In the back of my mind, I hear my best friends reprimanding me over feeling ashamed for my justified rage.

But that's the thing. I don't know if my anger toward what he did with Olivia is justified. Did he actually go there because he knew I would talk to her and wanted to hurt me, or was she the only girl available and it was solely to try and forget me? But then it also comes down to the fact that nothing happened.

'Something he claims and that can't be trusted. And feeling angry over him using her to try and forget you is justifiable. Your pain is dulling the anger. But once the pain passes, rage is what you will be left with.'

I highly doubt the pain will ever pass. At least, that's what it feels like right now.

Damien doesn't say anything for the rest of the drive and neither do I. Then and again, I catch him stealing glances, opening his mouth as if wanting to say something, but then thinking better of it and closing it and facing the passenger window, pressing his fist against his lips.

After thirty tortuous minutes, we make it. I park way harsher than necessary, making him fly forwards and backwards so much he has to grip the edge of the door from the momentum.

Good.

But I bet it's doing my car more damage than him.

Not waiting for him to get out, I stomp out of the car and toward the beautiful building that is peacocks.

Hannah, Sarah and I come here quite often. To think of it, this is probably the first time any of us have come without one of us. It almost feels like a betrayal coming without Sarah — not that we've said it would be if either of us did.

Nevertheless, it feels like a betrayal.

As soon as I walk in, the heat blasting from the vents above the door wraps around me like a warm blanket, soothing my anger and despair just a little.

The familiar, beautiful, interior aesthetic of the cafe settles me. The happy memories staining the pitch white walls and shiny white marble floor are like a band-aid around my internal wounds.

In the vast open domain, a vintage black piano sits between the private dining area reserved for special bookings and the rest of the cafe — unfortunately, it lays dormant.

Hopefully not for long.

Pink and white, circle and square marble tables lay scattered across the shiny floor, sky blue cushioned chairs surrounding them.

Lined up against the ceiling height window taking up the entire wall to my right, giving a spectacular view of the heavenly green field contrasting beautifully with the bright blue cloudless sky are cotton candy pink booths.

In the middle of the room, a big golden orb dips into the ceiling, and from it, a beautiful golden chandelier hangs, illuminating the room along with the smaller and simpler golden chandeliers spread out across the ceiling.

The place is heaven for the eyes. And I'm almost ashamed to admit that if the food wasn't good, I would still come, if only to eat up the view.

Hannah and Hayden aren't difficult to find with my foggy sight thanks to Hayden's tall form.

They don't spot me until I'm in the seat opposite them in the booth they occupy.

Just as Hannah opens her mouth to say something, Damien beats her to it. "We've got to go," he barks at Hayden.