On the Verge ~ (Seth Clearwater Imprinting Story)

Chapter 3 (Violet's POV)

I wondered why he would pay attention to me. Why me?

I was just the new girl who moved here and had an alcoholic father, so why me? I wasn’t so attractive or appealing.

At my old home I was home-schooled, so I didn’t see much of the outside world or make any friends. The only time I would socialize would be when I was working at the diner.

When my mother died of cancer when I was fourteen, I stopped the home-schooling to help Max cope. He obviously turned to alcohol and it became critical. When I was sixteen I worked full time at the diner, as well as caring for Max.

Sure, he was well known as a great businessman, but over the past few months, he’s been really losing it. That’s why we moved here you see.

Max needed to get away from the city life and I hoped that he would find himself if he was away from all the distractions. 

Of course I always wondered what being at a real school would be like. I would always watch the kids come back from school and hang out at the diner.

They all came in groups of friends. I’ve always wondered what having friends would be like, since I hardly ever interacted with other people, except for today.

Seth was the only person who had ever approached me and actually wanted to know me.         

I felt nervous as I thought about him, even when I said his name. I had never felt this way before about anyone.               

The way he held onto my hands when I was about to leave was sweet. No one had ever done that to me before.

The way he stared at me with those dark eyes. No one had ever stared at me like that before.

The way he smiled in reassurance before I was driven off. No one had ever reassured me, or comforted me about anything before.

I felt obliged to him, like I needed him. Did he feel the same way?

Don’t be so stupid, I muttered under my breath. You just met him. You can’t possibly be in love.      

I shook my head and thought about something else. But I couldn’t get the image of his handsome face out of my head.

“Violet?” A raspy voice called from the living room. I quickly dumped the chicken on a plate with a serving of mashed potatoes and gravy and hurried to the living room.

Max was awake and now lying on the couch, one hand draped over his forehead. He sat up as I set the plate on the table beside him.

“Here you go” I said.

He sighed and rubbed his head. “Thanks” he said his tone sad.

“No, problem” I replied as I slumped back to the kitchen. I ate my own dinner quickly, before retreating upstairs.

When I got to my room that was littered with unpacked boxes I lay flat on my back on my enormous bed staring up at the white ceiling.

I took a steamed shower, feeling my muscles loosen. Before I pulled on my shirt, I stared at myself in the mirror.

My eyes raked over the bruises on my arms and shoulders, the newest one throbbing purple on my neck.

I touched my neck and was drawn instantly to when Max had pushed me into the wooden table, my neck connecting with the sharp edge. I remembered feeling the air getting knocked out of me and nearly throwing up. He had gotten angry with me when I had poured all his liquor down the drain.

I remembered Max’s enraged face when I had done it. His breath was heavy with alcohol.

I hated it when he was drunk.