Page 43 of Insatiable

Even the clothes shops that I loved hold no interest for me. The clothes in the windows are not even size zero owing to the fact that no one here has an ounce of flesh on them. Maybe I should have signed up to the dressmaking class too, but then I remember Tate is in it.

George isn’t here. I honestly didn’t think he would be, but my plan is the only way I can think to get us all out of this shit hole. I know I told Quinn I’d stay with Rowena, and I will if I have to, but going an eternity without ever tasting food again will drive me crazy within weeks.

At the end of the corridor, just as I turn to head back, something slams me into the wall, knocking the wind out of me. My first instinct is to fight back, thinking it's one of the demons lurking around. I knee it hard between the legs, but it pulls back quickly, and I catch a glimpse of the person in the dim light.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Juliette?” she snaps, stepping closer again. “I’ve never been anything but nice to you, and you treat me like an annoying bitch.”

“If the shoe fits,” I mutter, straightening up as she finally steps back, giving me space to breathe.

She crosses her arms, her expression full of frustration. “Why? Why am I a bitch, Juliette? I know you have some seriously fucked-up unresolved issues with Tomas, but I’ve told you time and time again—I'm not fucking him. I get that men lie, but I don’t have any reason to. I like him, yes, but not in that way.”

“Every time I see him, you’re there, simpering with those damn puppy-dog eyes. It’s pathetic,” I spit back, refusing to let up.

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, she looks like she’s about to walk away. But then she squares her shoulders and leans in so closely that I can feel her breath on my cheek. “You want to know why I sit with Tomas? Because he's my only friend in this place. And all he ever talks about is you, Juliette. Every single conversation is about you and how to get through your thick skull, how much he still loves you.”

Her words hang heavy in the air, and for a second, I don't know how to respond.

“Tomas has always loved me,” I say, my gaze narrowing as I take in her silvery blonde hair and full lips, “but never enough to stop him from cheating on me with every blonde that catches his eye.”

Tate puts her arm to the wall behind me, effectively hemming me in. Frustration is visible in every line of her body that’s almost pressing me to the wall. “Maybe he’s changed. As far as I know, he’s not with anyone else, and for the millionth time, he’s definitely not with me. I don’t know how to make it any clearer.”

I scoff, but before I can say anything, she cuts me off. “You need to figure this out, Juliette. Either go find Tomas and get back with him, or tell him it’s over for good. But whatever you do, leave me out of it. This is none of my business, and I’m sick of you glaring at me every time I come down to the canteen and stalking me when I’m in my classes.”

Indignation comes over me. As if I’d stalk anybody let alone her, but she’s already walking away.

Thoughts of fucking George have flown out the window as I ponder Tate’s words. She’s right about one thing—I need to figure out what I want, and I can’t do that wandering aimlessly around the lower level of Gluttony. My heart pounds as I take the elevator back up to the main floor and head to the platform that leads to Tomas’s room. The image of her face and the way she glared at me, inches from my own face, don’t leave me as the platform ascends. I’m still not sure what I want when I knock on his door, but I know I have to face him, one way or another.

The door swings open, and the surprise on his face is unmistakable. “Jules. What a nice surprise. Come in.”

His tone is casual, but his eyes search mine as he steps aside to let me in. My gaze sweeps over the room, immediately scanning for signs of another woman. His bed is roughly made, yesterday’s clothes scattered on the floor, but there’s no evidence that anyone else has been here recently. I can’t smell perfume or anything suspicious—just the ever-present scent of bacon that permeates Gluttony, mixed with the faint sulfur smell that’s everywhere in Hell.

“Sorry about the mess,” Tomas says, picking up his clothes and tossing them into the walk-in wardrobe. “I’d have cleaned up if I knew you were coming. Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” I say, though the tightness in my chest betrays me, my heart still racing. My mind struggles to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions I’m drowning in. I sit down on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of the question I’ve been avoiding for far too long pressing against my lips. “Tomas,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, “do you love me?”

He stiffens, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Jules,” he breathes, hurt flickering across his face. “How can you ask that?You know I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment we met in school.”

His words hang in the air, familiar yet distant. I want to believe him, but a part of me can’t shake the doubt that’s been growing inside, slowly, like a thorn digging deeper with each lie, each betrayal. I search his face for something—anything—that will make it all make sense, but all I feel is the same old ache. I know he thinks he means it, but maybe our versions of love are different. Mine don’t include having multiple partners behind his back.

He sits on the bed next to me and pulls my chin up so I’m looking into his eyes. Brown, with a twinkle that would make my heart race once upon a time. “You are the love of my life, the mother of my kids, the sun to my moon.”

I shake my head sadly. I remember the first time he said that to me. I’d thought it was so romantic. Now it sounds like a cheesy cliché. “Are you sleeping with Tate?”

He doesn’t look surprised by my question. I’ve insinuated it enough in the last few weeks. He shakes his head. “No. Never.”

“She was with you at the hospital. I saw her.”

Finally I see surprise in his eyes. Of course he didn’t think I’d have noticed. The look in his eyes confirm I wasn’t imagining it.

“She came down to see how you were.”

“Bullshit!” I shake my head and close my eyes.

“Fine. She might have come down to see how I was holding up, but that’s all. I didn’t sleep with her.”

I open my eyes and look at him. This time I believe him. My bullshit detector has grown over the years, but this time he might actually be telling the truth. “What about anyone else?”

“Since the moment I saw that you were down here, I haven’t looked at another woman. I don’t want anyone else. It’s only you. It’s only ever been you.”

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