Page 74 of Oathbreaker

It’s a nauseating cycle.

I give up on sleep, deciding to head to the bathroom to wash my face and disturbing Kitty’s place in the bed beside me. I usher him over to his dog bed, where he flips over and falls back to sleep, facing the wall.

Dark bags take up residence under my eyes, and my cheeks look sunken in. My skin is tinged a sick yellow-green. My tight sweatpants stretch over my ass, and my shirt feels snug across my breasts and arms. My body is doing strange things. I’m gaining weight, probably from the late-night sugar binges.

You’re chasing dopamine.

None of this is working.

I put my palms flat on the cool marble countertop.

Name three things that will make you feel better in this moment, Winter.

I keep staring at the counter, noticing the drip-drip-drip of the faucet in my periphery.

One: Make your bed.

I don’t overthink it, forcing my body to move immediately when the thought comes to the forefront.

It takes me all of one minute to get the bed straightened and the decorative pillows back in place.

Okay, two more things.

Two: Throw away your trash.

I look around the room, observing the empty soda bottles and chip bags. Grabbing the trash can from the bathroom, I walk around the room, picking up all the garbage. Then I wet a cloth from the linen closet and wipe down all the surfaces.

Hunter has a housekeeper who would usually keep this room clean, but I’ve barred the woman from entry.

I know I stress her out with the level of filth around the suite.

Three: Take an actual shower.

I raise my arm, grimacing when I smell myself. With the same quickness, I head back to the bathroom, starting up the water.

I love this shower. With the multiple shower heads and aromatherapy inserts that make the whole bathroom smell like a spa once it gets steamy, I could marry this shower.

Marry.

Don’t think about Hunter.

I didn’t lie to him when I said I might never be ready for him—ready to go back to how we were.

I didn’t tell the whole truth, either.

If you can’t be honest with yourself, how can you be honest with anyone else?

The truth is that parts of me are starting to come awake. Not only do I crave his closeness, the intimacy of being in each other's presence, but I also crave his touch. His body. How it feels pressed against mine.

I miss how good he makes me feel.

I miss feeling good.

With the steam swirling around me, I soap up the loofah and begin rubbing it across my body.

I allow myself to think about Hunter.

The last time we were in the shower together, I called on my bravery to suck him down, to make him feel good, versus him getting me off all the time.

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