Chapter Twenty-Two

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Oakley


I woke up in the morning, and my head was pounding from crying the night before.

There's no point in crying; it won't change the past or the future.

You're stuck forever.

Rubbing my eyes vigorously to clear the thoughts that kept me awake at night, I took deep breaths. I might be locked in silence forever, but I'd be okay.

I checked the time on my alarm clock. It was 9:52am. I'd slept in late, but I needed the extra sleep. Flopping back down, I covered my eyes with my forearm. In the darkness, I heard Cole's laugh. Jumping, I scrambled up on the bed.

What the hell is wrong with him?

"And here I was thinking you'd be ready by now," he said, grinning in amusement and cocking his eyebrow. I had no clue how he could be so...awake after a full on two-week holiday and late night. "You alright? You look tired."

That's because I'm tired.

He came and sat on my bed. I'd never quite get used to the way he looked at me. Cole reached his hand out tucked my hair behind my ear, and then he ran his thumb under my eye. "Have you been crying? Oakley, what's going on? Are you okay?"

I nodded, and he pulled me close to him. Right now, in his arms, I was okay, but since we'd got together I'd been thinking too much. "Do you still want to go out? We don't have to. We can hang around here if you want?"

I jumped up and shook my head. That was the last thing I wanted. Dad was taking today off before he locked himself in his office again, so I wanted to be out of the house.

"You sure?" he asked. I was beyond sure. I grabbed some clothes out of my drawer and held a finger up at Cole, telling him to give me a minute. "Yeah, like you'll actually be ready in one minute," he called after me as I ran to the bathroom to shower and get dressed.

Right, I was slowing down because of that. Cole laughed as I slowed my pace on my way out. "I knew you were going to do that!"

Smiling, I locked myself in the bathroom and stripped. I turned the temperature up too high and got in. After stressing out about my past last night, I felt like I had to scrub my body again to get it clean.

You can scrub until your skin peels off; you'll never be clean.

I scrunched my eyes shut, gripping the rough sponge as I scraped it over my legs. I cried for everything I'd gone through and everything I would continue to lose. My tears mixed with the water and ran down the drain. Crying didn't change anything, but it released some of the pressure that constantly built inside my chest.

Get it together; you're stronger than this.

Cole would have to wait because as hard as I tried, I couldn't pull myself together. Sliding down the tiled wall of the shower, I curled my body into a ball.

The floor is where you belong. If Cole saw you like this he'd think you're pathetic. If he knew he'd be disgusted. He'd hate you for letting him have sex with you. Who wants used goods?

I gripped my hair, I sobbed.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!

I hated that I couldn't stop those thoughts. No matter how hard I tried to forget what happened, it was always there, lurking in the background, waiting for a glimmer of weakness so it could take hold of my mind.

I'm stronger than this. Stand up.

Cole was waiting in my bedroom for me, and here I was having a meltdown on the shower floor. I'm a survivor. I'm not a victim.

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