Songs for this chapter are:
Nothing- Lewis Watson
All too well- Taylor Swift
Fix you- Cover by Jayme Dee ( I'm so glad so many of you like her, you should check out her cover of Blood Bank, it's incredible and heartbreaking and it's my favorite song, I'm rambling but I just love her voice so much)
I walk out to the balcony to close to the doors before walking over to the dresser to change into my pajamas. With my mind racing, I'm finding it difficult to focus on clothing. Nothing appeals as a substitute for Harry's worn clothing and I refuse to wear the white t-shirt resting on the arm of the chair, I need to be able to sleep in my own damn clothes. I give up after rummaging through the drawer and decide to settle for the shorts and sweatshirt that I have on and lay down on the bed.
Who is this mystery girl that Harry's with? Ironically I'm more upset about my apartment in Seattle than I am about the daughter of Ken's friend. If he wants to jeopardize our relationship by cheating, that's his choice. Yes, it would tear what's left of me into pieces and I don't think I would ever recover, but I'm not going to focus on that.
For the life of me I can't picture it, I can't picture him actually cheating on me despite all of the things he has done in the past, I just don't see it. Not after his letter, not after his pleading for my forgiveness. Yes he's controlling, too controlling, and he doesn't know when to stop interfering with my life but his intentions behind the actions aren't as malicious as being unfaithful.
The constant throb of resentment towards Harry hasn't let up after staring at the ceiling counting the beams of stained wood lining the sloped surface.
I don't know if I'm ready to talk to him just yet but I know I won't be able to sleep until I hear him return to the cabin. The longer he's gone the stronger the twist of jealousy grows in my chest. I can't help but notice the double standard here, if I was out with a guy Harry would lose it and probably try to burn down the woods surrounding the place. I want to laugh at the ridiculous thought but I just don't have it I me. Instead I close my eyes again, begging sleep to come.
"Do you want a drink?" Lillian asks.
"Sure," I shrug and glance at the clock.
"You can't be a coward forever, you know,"
"You're so much like her," she giggles, pulling the top off of a bottle of brandy that I'm sure cost more than the massive television hanging on the wall.
"Like Tessa? No, I'm not."
"No, not her. Riley,"
Lillian pours the dark liquor into a small glass and places it in my hand before sitting back on the couch.
"Where is your drink?" I ask.
"I don't drink,"
Of course she doesn't. I really shouldn't be drinking but the hot burn of the brandy on my tongue pushes the nagging reminder away.
"Are you going to tell me how I'm like her or not?" I look at her expectantly.
"You just are, she has that brooding, angry at the world thing going on too." She rolls her eyes and crosses her legs under her.
"Well maybe she has something to be angry about," I defend the girl without even knowing her and gulp down half the glass of liquor. It's strong, aged to perfection, and I can feel the burn down to the sole of my boots. Lillian doesn't reply, instead she purses her lips and stares at the wall behind me in thought.