Page 27 of The Sound Of Silence

“I’m sleeping on your couch.”

“You’re what?” My face scrunches so hard, I almost get a headache.

“I’m being respectful, Willow!” he grates. “Do you have anything to spare or not?”

Respectful? What?

“Um, you don’t have to do that. Fuck away like rabbits for all I c…care.” I cover my mouth as the lie catches in my throat, causing Jesse’s gaze to flash to mine, his eyes narrowing as his nostrils flare.Is it that I lied or said fuck? Because the latter felt weird for me too.

Pippa chooses that moment to join us in my room, rolling her eyes as she enters. “He’s lying. We had a disagreement and I told him he had to sleep on the couch. Please just help us out.”Well that seems extreme, but okay.

“Sure. It’s not super comfortable for sleeping, but you’re welcome to it. I’ll get you some bedding.”

Schooling my features, I walk away, holding back my confusion until I round the corner to the laundry room. Something doesn’t add up.

I’ve just grabbed a sheet from the cupboard when Pippa joins me with an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry about that. He tried and failed to get Marley to let us stay and now…”

“He’s moody.”Again. “I get it, but does that really warrant separate beds?”

Pippa sighs as she stares out the door, her mind clearly lost in something. “Hypothetically,” she begins and I instantly give her my full attention. “If you were—never mind.” She cuts herself off and changes the subject. “I’m sure Jesse and I will have it cleared up soon.”Okay.“Should we start getting ready?”

“Yeah, we should. I need all the time I can get.” I laugh like I’m joking, keeping the conversation light, when what I really want to do is ask about the hypothetical situation. She clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, and I know why. It’s more proof that we’ve drifted apart over the years.

Pippa laughs, and even though I know she’s laughing at my comment, not at my thoughts about our apparent distance, it still pains me.

“You’re going to look beautiful, Willow. You always do. And I’m grateful you’re coming. I better remember to thank Mom for whatever knife she’s holding to your back,” she says, and it has me wondering just what kind of a person she thinks I am.

“There’s no knife. It’s a big deal for Dad, so I want to be there. I just…”

“Hate crowds?”

“And attention, and socializing, and dressing up, and—”

“Pippa? Where do you want your dress?” Jesse calls out, interrupting us.

“I’ll be there to help you tonight,” she says, before walking to the doorway. “It’s going to be fine.”

God, I hope she’s right.

Knotting the strings of my dress around my neck, I spin on the balls of my feet and look over my shoulder, taking in the sight of my semi exposed back. It may only be cutouts, but it’s the most I’ve ever exposed publicly, and it terrifies me. Though I have to admit, it invigorates me at the same time. Just like the bra, I wasn’t sure if I’d actually get the confidence to wear this dress when the time came. But now, I’m going to treat it like a metaphor for taking my life back. To show the world that I’m not the sweet little angel they believe me to be.To prove Jesse wrong.

I hate to admit that’s a part of it. I hate that he saw right through me, and I hate that he’s the reason I actually stopped to question it.Why am I always keeping the peace? Why am I always pretending I’m fine? Why do I feel the need to smile, when I sometimes want to cry?

My wings were broken long ago, and there’s nothing sweet about the person I’ve become. I’m just damn good at hiding that part of myself.

Until it comes to Jesse.

It’s like his mind has a one-way connection to mine, and I have no idea how to stop it.

It’s only been three days since our lives literally crashed together, and if this were an alternative reality, if we were mystical beings, I would have concluded that he stole a piece of me during the chaos. A way to see into my soul…. But it’s not a fantasy world. It’s real. And I can’t for the life of me figure out what’s going on.

Or what I did to warrant this little war he seems to be waging.

Stilettos in one hand, I lather my lips in a soft-pink gloss and make my way toward the living room, gathering my strength as I go.

Pippa and Jesse are ready in the entryway, looking deep in conversation, when the floor creaks beneath my feet, causing them both to pause and face me. Pippa’s eyes widen and I almost shy away, but when my gaze meets Jesse’s intense stare, my focus shifts.

No, it doesn’t shift. It blurs.

---