Page 94 of Pope's Penance

Cyanide snorts while Gavel laughs, but I just turn on my heel.

I don’t know what’s so funny about that.

I’m fucking exceptional.People love the shit out of me.

Most of them, anyway.

Chapter Thirty-Five

There’ssomethinggoingonwith Pope.

It’s more than just him pulling away.He has something deep weighing on his mind, and he’s refusing to talk about it.It’s so reminiscent of the past that my heart whispers with insecurities.My head, surprisingly, says it has nothing to do with another woman.

There’s more darkness surrounding him than there was before he left on his last run.

When he got back two nights ago, he fucked me as if he was trying to crawl inside my soul and stay there.

I tried to talk to him about whatever was bothering him, but he shut me down with a gentle “I love you” before climbing out of bed and taking a shower.

Pope’s never been one to talk about things that are too deep.It’s just not in his nature.That has never bothered me before because I knew I had all the parts of him that mattered most to me.

It’s not like I don’t have things I don’t enjoy talking about.

There are a lot of demons he’s carried from his childhood.During his nightmares, I’ve picked up bits and pieces of what it was like.Just knowing those broken fragments keeps me from pushing him to talk about it.

How could I ever make someone I love face something like that?

I know what it’s like to have the kind of trauma that wants to keep you in a chokehold.Never letting you breathe, never letting you live.

I freeze, one of Pope’s clean shirts in my hand as my thoughts catch me off-guard.

Someone I love?

No.

Absolutely not.

There’s no way I’m being that stupid again, right?

I bring the shirt to my chest, as if it’ll slow the racing of my heart.

I can’t be in love with Pope again.He’s already pulling away.What if it’s only a matter of time before he breaks my heart?What if something else happens, and he finds himself unable to trust me?

Despite the unshakeable sense of impending doom, I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds.Then I exhale heavily, letting the panic go, and continue to fold clothes.

I refuse to let myself be drawn into what-if scenarios.It was only a matter of time before it happened with me being back home, anyway.

The pull between us is too strong.

Pope always called it fate, said we were born with two halves of one soul.

I used to believe him.

How do you survive without a part of your soul, though?

Isn’t that what we did for the last seven years?

Survive?

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