Page 42 of She will Always be Mine

NYRA

Fog surrounds me like a warm cocoon, as the hot water beating down on my back kisses some of my pain away.

My slow breathing is the only sound in the enclosed space while my mind is a blank canvas. Light-headed and calm.

And I have never felt more peaceful.

I stay under the shower, chasing the feeling until the water turns cold and forces me to step out. And then, the multitude of chaos returns, one vicious attack after another.

There’s no longer a dark cloud hanging over me but now there’s a thundering storm waiting to drown me.

It’s been two—long and agonizing—days since I eavesdropped on my parents’ private conversation and it’s still very fresh on my mind.

I’m trying and failing to process it all, like the fact that my mom’s past is a mystery and no longer shrouded in darkness.

My tormentor—Zain—no longer anonymous, was hiding right under my nose.

And worse, he’s nowhere near finished punishing me for my sins.

My only saving grace this past two days has been that there has been no words from Zain, which has allowed me time to recover from the shock of all the news.

I don’t know who I should be disappointed in the most, my mother for protecting me by lying or Zain for stabbing me with deceit. Either way, both completely broke my trust.

And yeah, I know I’m a hypocrite but I can’t find it in me to care anymore, not when my life is falling apart at the seams and my sacrifices are being wasted on nothing.

Sadly, neither Mom nor Zain can see how they have done the exact misdeeds they are accusing and castigating Riaan of. Unlike them, he has never once lied to me or betrayed me.

But I have done both to him.

Standing in front of my closet, I hold the knot of the towel against my breasts while randomly picking a dress to wear today even though I’m stuck inside these four walls all day.

Despite knowing it’s unhealthy and depressing, I have simply resigned myself to my fate because there’s nothing that makes me look forward to the day anymore.

To this day, thoughts of Riaan keeps distracting me.

It’s nine a.m. in the morning which means he must be on his way to the office. His sweet or filthy text—depending on his mood—would always reach me around this time before he left his apartment.

My eyes slide toward my phone resting innocently on the bed, making my fingers itch to grab it, hoping he may have left one for me.

But it’s futile.

Because his suspicion was correct about me not having my phone. And there’s no way for him to know that I have it back. Unless, of course, I tell him. Hence, the dilemma of whether or not I should.

Even though I promised myself I would keep my distance and be the remorseful daughter my mom wants me to be, I’m so enticed to break it. The pull I have toward him has always been compelling, no matter the distance.

Until yesterday, it was easy to keep the promise, but now, it’s become twice as harder to resist the tempting urge.

The devil in my ear whisperingmaybe one text won’t hurtwhile the angel murmursbe strong.

Everyone knows how it ends, the devil always wins and I have no power to stop myself when my defenses are weak and gaping wide open.

On the other hand, the truth is that I want to contact him because I’ve never needed—missed—him more than in this moment.

Yet I keep denying it.

Instead, I tell myself that he at least deserves to know that I received his thoughtful and beautiful gift, especially the letter that I’ve read too many times by now. It’s the only thing keeping me afloat and the only light of happiness I have these days.

So, before I can change my mind and come back to my senses, I grab the phone and type the words that come as easy as breathing.

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