Page 66 of Deceit
That she wasn’t invisible.
I’d always seen her.
Chapter 20
Sofia
Angry tears slid down my face as I paced the length of the bathroom, which,given its size, was only a few steps in either direction. My mind raced a hundred miles a minute, but I didn’t know if I was more angry at Kai’s not-so-brilliant plan or at Miles’ unwavering hatred toward me.
If I were honest, though, my anger was aimed at my own stupidity. Why onearth had I taunted Miles? I should have knownthathim fucking me wouldn’t have changed anything between us; his hatred toward me was deep-rooted, andnothingwas going to changethat.
A gut-wrenching sob worked its way free, and I jammed the heels of mypalms into my eyes to stop more tears from falling. Why did I have to feel this way about him? Why couldn’t we have met for the first time in Papa’s conference room? Why had I lied about my age and who I was four years ago? Why did Theo have to feel as strongly as he had about me?
Why, why, why?
Never in my life had I wanted to reach into my chest and rip my own heartout more than what I wanted to rightthen.
As if my current state of torment wasn’t enough to handle, my brainunhelpfully chosethatmoment to remind me of Papa’s threat toward Rafeif I didn’t get myself pregnant, and nausea began to churn as I rememberedthatMiles had fucked me without a condom.
My mind spiraled. What if one time with Miles led to me getting pregnant?What sort of environment would it be to raise a child when their father couldn’t stand to be in the same room as their mom? What sort of mother would I be, when given the choice, I wasn’tevensure if I wanted children?
It was too much. I darted to the toilet, coughing up the acidic bilethatburned my throat on the way out. More tears cascaded down my cheeks, only now, they were tears of sorrow. My entire body sagged with defeat. I’d tried so hard tojustkeep going, but I didn’t want to do it any longer. I couldn’t.
I never asked for this life, and I didn’t want it anymore. Enough wasenough. This wasn’t a life I wanted to live. A life where a father ordered his daughter to spread her legs for the sake of strengthening family ties. A life where a husband couldn’t bear to be in the same room as his wife for more than a few minutes.
A life where I was nothing but invisible.
Maybe if I wasn’t here, I’d finally find peace.
Over the years, I’d thought about suicide on more than a few occasions. Iwondered if my mom would be waiting on the other side or if there was simply darkness. A black hole where you spent all of eternity feelingnothing.
As much as I’d thought about what it would be like to end my life, I’d nevergone any further. Something always held me back, maybe from fear of the black hole, or perhaps I held onto a tiny ray of hopethatmy life would one day change.
And ithadchanged. But not for the better.
Hovering over the toilet, watching the bile I’d expelled swirl with thewater, and with my head in turmoil, the black hole didn’tseemso scary anymore.
Anything was better than this life I’d been cursed with.
With a wave of determination, I wiped my hand with the back of my mouthand stood before moving over to the little cupboard in the bathroom. Opening the door, my eyes darted from one item to the next, searching for razor blades.
Slitting my wrists would be painful but quick. And once it was done, Iwouldn’t have time to change my mind. I could watch the blood flow from my veins as the darkness claimed me.
Disappointment weighed heavily on me when I came up empty. Until Iopened the second cupboard, where a bunch of blister packs were stored. Tablets would take longer, but they’d have the same effect, and maybe they wouldn’t hurt so much. I could swallow them down, close my eyes, and drift off peacefully, never to wake again.
With shaky hands, I grabbed the packets and read over the labels. Morphine.Oxycodone. Codeine. Each pack held at least twenty tablets, but I didn’t know ifthatwould be enough to stop my heart from beating.
But I knew what would help if I could find some.
Shoving the packets back in the cupboard, I unlocked the bathroom door andheaded straight to the kitchenette, determined to find what I was looking for. Miles had moved to sit in front of the computer, his fingers tapping furiously at the keyboard, but pausing as he tracked me.
“What are you doing?”he asked as I started opening cupboards. When Iignored him, he stood, and in less than a few strides, he was behind me.“Sofe! I asked what you’re doing?”
“Looking for alcohol,”I replied nonchalantly, ignoring the way butterfliesfluttered in my stomach at him calling me Sofe.
He’d called methatin the car too, when he’d squeezed my knee andpromised methathe wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.
A stupid lie I believed. He hadn’t included himself inthatstatement.
