Page 64 of The Pucking Wrong Man

I wouldn’t fail Anastasia.

I couldn't.

CHAPTER 12

ANASTASIA

It had been two days since I’d seen Camden.

Two days should seem like nothing in the grand scheme of things. After all, I’d been the one to tell him to leave. I’d told him who I was, how our lives could never meet because we didn’t live in the same worlds.

He’d done exactly what I’d asked, hadn’t he?

He’d left.

So, why did it hurt so bad?

Two days of dancing with a spinning head, throwing up in the bathroom in between classes because my head was throbbing so much from my concussion.

Two days of enduring gossip from the other dancers because I refused to talk to anyone about why I looked the way I did.

Two days of working at Charlie’s without him sitting at his table and staring at me while I worked.

Two days.

I sighed as I sat on the bus, staring at my lap and the fact that my fingernails were bitten down to stumps. Between my fingers and my feet and my face...I really was an attractive package.

Of course he’d left. Who would stay?

The problem was that I missed him, and if I was being honest with myself, I hated him for that.

I’d gotten used to being alone, and then he’d showed up, a temporary flash of light in the sky that lit up everything around me.

And when that flash of light faded away, my world seemed darker than ever.

I trudged into Haven, giving a half-hearted smile to Clara, the night front desk attendant.

I was so fucking exhausted. And somehow everything seemed louder tonight, the children’s fits, the women’s cries, people arguing...everything was so loud. A good night’s sleep was going to be impossible...and don’t even get me started on going to the bathroom.

It had taken a herculean effort to drag myself into that restroom every day. I hadn’t seen that girl anywhere since she’d left me on the floor, but that didn’t mean I didn’t shake every time I opened the door. I’d gone in with groups the last two nights—something I’d actively avoided in the past. But without voices surrounding me, I couldn’t force myself inside.

Luckily, there was a mother and her three children headed for the bathroom at the same time as me, and I was able to follow them inside. Throwing water on my face, I hurried through my short nighttime routine, leaving the room as soon as possible.

And later, as I stared at the ceiling on my hard cot, I cursed Camden and the shooting star he’d flown away on.

“Anastasia. Anastasia. Wake up.”

I blinked open my eyes, noticing that the lighting in the room was still dim. It wasn’t time to wake up yet. Unless something had happened—I sat up abruptly, almost knocking heads with the night supervisor, Meredeth.

“What is it? What happened?” I asked, my eyes darting around the room as I tried to figure out what was going on. Everyone still seemed like they were sleeping—or at least the regulars seemed to be sleeping. The new women never slept the first few nights.

Meredeth’s lips were pursed, her stern expression matching the tight black bun she was wearing that could rival any prima ballerina’s.

“We need to search your things, Anastasia,” Meredeth murmured, keeping her voice low so that she didn’t disturb the people who were sleeping around us. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Why, what’s going on?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest from the abrupt wake-up, my brain struggling to comprehend what was happening. Why were they searching my belongings? What had I done wrong?

I slid off the cot, wincing at the soreness in my leg. My hands were trembling as I watched Meredeth and another volunteer, Conny, kneel beside my cot, their fingers digging into the space beneath it.

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