The sound of loud knocking against the front door had my face scrunching in pain. Every bang bounced around the inside of my skull, creating one of the worst headaches I’ve ever experienced.My eyes were still closed, and after a few tries, I forced them open to see that I was on the floor of the foyer.Lingering crackles from the fireplace even irritated the throbbing in my head.“Rosa,” Chris’ voice came from the other side of the door, “We’re going to be late.”Late? The expensive empty bottle of wine stared at me from where it was tipped over on the plush rug. It was as if it were staring at me, reminding me of my poor decisions last night. Especially now that Chris is at my door for some reason saying that I’m late for something.Pushing myself off the ground, I wince, feeling the intensity of my bad decisions last night.“One minute,” my voice sounded foreign and scratchy.“Could you at least let me in while you finish getting ready? It’s raining,” Chris groaned.Scooping the b

“I’m going to plead the fifth when I’m asked about you assaulting that car,” Shawn smirked.“The car deserved it,” I groaned, “The door is locked, and I need sunglasses.”Shawn’s brows pinched together before he reached up, removing the pair atop his head, and outstretching his arm. I walked over, grabbing the pair, and quickly placing them on my face. They weren’t my typical style, but it will do for now.“Why do you need sunglasses?” Shawn closed the distance between us, pushing the pair to the top of my head.“I might be hungover, and my mother might be projecting her insanely oppressive thoughts into my orbit.”“Chris didn’t make you one of his famous smoothies?” Shawn snorted.I scrunched my nose, and my tongue somehow tasted the disgusting concoction, “He did. But I’m not entirely cured, and I can’t handle saving face today around my mother.”“What is she on about now?” he questioned, never breaking eye contact. Normally this level of attention would make me uncomfortable if it

“Are your sorrows drowned in grease and cheese?” Chris smiled with a mouthful of his burger.We’re sitting in his expensive car eating extra large meals from the local burger shack. I tried to protest both the food and the eating of said food on imported leather, but Chris wouldn’t budge.He’d actually said that his car liked the cheese, so I assumed that despite his perfect physical form; he did this a lot. Which was somehow disturbing on so many levels.“They’re definitely forgotten for now,” I dipped a fry into the large cup of melted cheese he’d ordered and shoved it into my mouth. “Leave it to some cheesy fries,” I wagged another cheese covered fry in the air, watching a glob of the melty substance fall onto his center console.He leaned forward, swiping his tongue against the leather before smearing his hand over it. I stared at him horrified, which only made him purse his lips, “What?”“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t just see you do that.”A large chocolate milkshake sat in

I’ve been walking around like a zombie since Sunday morning. Every time I circle back to the events that led up to Rosalind saying goodbye; I want to pluck out my own eyeballs.I fucked up. Correction; I royally fucked up and then tried to pitch the line ‘I thought you would understand.’Onyx would have torn me to shreds. He wouldn’t have cared about the people around. He would have pushed forward to tell Rosalind what a piece of shit I was and a coward.When Marina called me, I hadn’t wanted to answer. My mind was strictly on Rosalind and our lovely evening. But the look in Rosa’s eyes when Marina called again and again pushed me to answer it. It was almost like a flash of concern at the fact that the phone calls kept coming.Marina’s sobs were nearly incoherent, but I’d made out enough of what she was saying to determine that I needed to go see her.Despite everything that she’d done; she was still my mate.But the longer I’d sat in the solitude of my office, drinking away the pain

“When Chris and I were teenagers, you used to give us these pills,” I whispered, trying to maintain the strength to keep going. My father’s tone was anything but friendly when I’d mentioned them, but reliving the memory of that night created a need for answers. “They were some trial you were working on, but then once we turned eighteen, they just vanished. What were they?”My father cut into his steak slowly before dipping it into a runny egg and staring at me, “I think you are mistaken sweetheart. Maybe all of the stress you’re under has you imagining things.”I felt my brows pinch together, “No. I used to have these episodes. I remember hearing someone in my head. Almost like an inner voice, but it sounded different. When you put me on the meds, the voice stopped.”“Enough, Rosalind,” my father’s voice held a harsh edge to it as he carefully set his fork and knife on the napkins next to his plate, “I’m not sure what you are talking about. Voices and medications,” he shook his head,