Page 18 of Her Overprotective Fiance

What then?

Would I really go...or would I end up begging for them to let me stay?

I used to think I was strong, but it feels as if just this ephemeral taste of the good life has turned me into a wimp. I used to look down on people who swallowed their pride in exchange for safety and comfort, but now I know I'm no better than any of them.

The thought of having to crawl back to my father and being at his mercy again makes me sick to my stomach, and even though I know it's not right to feel this way—-

I hate them,dammit.

I hate how life with the Marchettis has forced me to see myself for who I really am, and that's why there are times...

Just so, so many times I'm tempted to self-destruct and simply...snap.

To just throw everything out in the open and be done with it.

Just tell me you've made a mistake!

Tell me you want me to leave!

Tell me you're washing your hands off me!

But they never did.

And that's why...

I find myself pushing them to their limits.

Just pushing and pushing and pushing...

So they'd be the ones to snap instead.

Unburden

MARYSE IS ALREADY SEATEDwhen I arrive at the restaurant, and her lips only curve when I deliberately stomp my way to her table in my knee-high neon-pink army boots.

"Happy Sweet Sixteen," the former Angel of Death says as I join her. "Or is it better if I go with Subversive Sixteen instead?"

I blink at her with my best falsely-accused-heroine expression. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

She eyes me from head to toe. "Sea-green hair. Lolita goth fashion. And if the reports are to be believed, you've already servedthreeschool suspensions in the past eight months."

"Whoever your source is, kill them," I say right away.

"So you haven't been suspended?"

I look at her like she's lost her mind. "Of course I have. But it's four, not three."

The other girl laughs, and I can't help but snicker when the sound leaves most of the other patrons in shock.

Maryse has been "retired" for over half a year already, and love has given her, um, a personality makeover. I would still be choosing my words with care in her presence if it weren't so.

"How have you been? How did the Marchettis celebrate your birthday?"

"I told them I didn't want any kind of celebration," I answer with a shrug, "and they respected my wishes."

She looks at me dubiously. "That doesn't sound like them at all."

It really doesn't, and that's what's been secretly keeping me up at night.

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