12.

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A/N
Just wanted to let you know that the set of words that are in italics and between the star symbol (**) are all memories.
Also... Thank you all for 300 reads. I'm grateful.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please vote if you do.

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"We can come back another time if you like." James suggests, becoming fully aware of my state of panic.

He watches me carefully as I take slow breaths, filling my lungs as much as I can.

I shake my head, exhaling slowly.

"It's fine. I can handle it." I say more to convince myself.

"You sure?"

I nod. "Yeah." I open the car door then step out of the Honda. "I can handle it." I repeat, feeling the cold air nibble at my skin.

I shudder as both fear and the cold claw at me. I follow James to the front door. He pulls out the extra key from beneath the medium-sized flower pot and uses it to unlock the door. I watch him push the door open and we both step into the warm confinement of my parents' home. I take a shaky breath when we walk into the living room, explicit images finding their way back into my mind, and unfortunately, I make the mistake of letting myself go through the last time I was here.

** "Do you- do you love me. Do you care?"

He looks me straight in the eye. "No." **

My shaking hand finds my chest as I breathe painfully.

** "Why not?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Please. I need to know."

"Let go of me, Isabelle." **

"Isa?" James turns to face me. "Isabelle."

I look up when he places his hands on both my shoulders, holding me steady.

"Breathe." He instructs and I nod, doing so.

He leads me through it and although he manages to calm me down he fails to take the pain away.

"I think we should leave." He says, already leading me out the door.

"What? No." I pull back. "I-I'm fine."

"Isabe-"

"I am. Really."

He eyes me sceptically then sighs, knowing how stubborn I can get. "Okay."

We then walk back into the house. This time I'm prepared.

The memories escorted by pain and fear all attempt to overwhelm my system, but I don't let them. Not this time.

I'm fine, better than fine actually.

JAMES'S P.O.V

Isa walks through the living room as I watch her cautious movements. She is nothing close to being fine. I don't know whether she's lying to me or herself and I don't know who she is trying to prove a point to, but the steps she's taking are all leading her to self-destruction, and I hate that she refuses to see that.

Either way, I follow her up the stairs and through the hallway. Her hands tremble slightly at her sides while I watch her take a breath, choosing to let her be.

She moves her hand from her side and reaches for the doorknob. She turns it and gasps when the door opens. Concerned, I step closer, wanting to see why.

"He really wanted me gone." The agony of realisation mixed with a little irritation roll off her tongue with the words that she speaks.

My eyes search the room for familiarity, but nothing other than the position of the bed, table and the colour of the walls catch my eye. Everything else has been changed. The room looks like it never belonged to anyone.

DAMAGEDOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora