Chapter 12

Present

Celestine's POV

I jolt upright in the bed, the pounding of my chest matches the consistent throbbing of my sex. Why am I dreaming about that bastard that keeps insulting and hurting me?

It was more of a memory than a dream. A memory that I have locked away forever, so why are the flashbacks resurfacing?

It's like my body is practicing mutiny and it is being led by my stupid brain.

Faint evening light streams through my bedroom window. A look at the screen of my phone tells me that it's six pm. I slept through the whole day.

I lift a hand to my face only to pull it away and find it sticky with dried-up tears. The last thing I remember is burying my head into the pillow and drenching it with my hot tears after I argued with Lorenzo.

Ahhh! Why did I try to comfort him? I really tried to show sympathy for a heartless bastard like himself.

I slide out of bed and whine at the dull ache in my arm, a sign that I slept in the wrong position. I pad into my bathroom, peel the clothes