Page 50 of The Obedient Lie
I was lying on my back, pretending to scroll through my phone.
Watched her out of the corner of my eye as she placed her own phone on the nightstand and pulled back the covers like it was routine.
Only it wasn’t.
It had been weeks since she slept here.
Weeks since she’d come back before midnight.
Weeks since this room had smelled like her.
It didn’t tonight.
No rosewood.
No expensive shampoo.
No perfume in the air.
Just stillness.
She didn’t say goodnight.
Didn’t offer cookies.
Didn’t leave her water glass on the wrong side of the bench like she used to.
Everything was muted.
Even the way she curled into bed—small, hidden, barely taking up space.
Bastion walked in a few minutes later, stiff, his eyes skimming over her figure beneath the blanket.
He didn’t say anything either.
Just sat on the edge of his bed like he was thinking too hard.
Like he was haunted.
I knew the look.
Because I felt the same.
She hadn’t smiled since he yelled at her. Not once.
She used to smiletoo much.
That big kind, with all her teeth and dimples, like the world hadn’t beat her down yet.
Like she still had something soft left inside her.
Now?
Now she didn’t even look up.
She used to leave her makeup bag out.
A sweater thrown across her chair.
