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14 | Remorse
Phoebe’s POV
Her eyes widen with alarm as she registers my expression and looks guilty as she tries to form words but ends up stammering.
I stop looking at her when I hear a knock on the door and tilt my head on the left side to look past Ava only to see a maid in her late 40s with a tray in her hand.
I nod my head for her to enter the room and immediately feel guilty for snapping at Ava like that. God, I literally sound confusing even to myself. Sometimes I wonder if anyone faced this mental dilemma like I do every day.
Yes! Every fucking day!
I was literally a step away from a complete psychopath to a severely depressed patient.
Sometimes I felt too much and other times I felt nothing.
Moments like these make me question if I will ever be cured again.
After that death, I shut myself away from others and nothing made me genuinely happy anymore. All those constant small things
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