Forbidden Fruit - A Taboo Love Story by Sloane Piper

Author:Sloane, Piper [Sloane, Piper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-02-27T05:00:00+00:00

6

Wish You Were Here

Shane

The past week has been better.

S ure , I still think about Peaches when I first wake up and she’s in my head until I fall asleep, but I’m coping. I’m starting to feel as though I’ll be able to move on.

I’m just not sure if I want to move on.

There’s still such a big part of me that wants to tell her just how I feel. To hold her, to kiss her. To bring her into my home and back into my life.

But I’m trying to get there. I’m trying to fill my time with other things and to take my mind off her.

I got home just as it was getting dark. The rains had started as I left work and had followed me home; I knew that the usual track to my cabin would be waterlogged so took a different way, snaking around the house and coming in through the back door.

I need to get some kind of timer, or something. Coming home to a dark house just makes it feel so damn empty. Whenever I have to fumble around for a light switch it reminds me that I’m alone in here. Whenever I look in my fridge it reminds me that Peaches isn’t here to fix something for dinner or offer to make me a sandwich.

I’ve not been eating well since I left. The closest I’ve come to a proper meal has been fast food; all that I’ve bought for my place is coffee and chips. The house was furnished when I moved in here, down to the sheets on the bed and pictures on the walls. If I’m going to stay here, I need to make it mine – make it feel like a home instead of a place that I’ve been staying in to put distance between Peaches and myself.

Coming in through the back door meant that my feet didn’t know where to tread in the dark. Just before getting to the pull chain for the kitchen light my boot caught against a ridge in the floor, sending me hurtling towards the stove in the dark.

‘Mother fucker!’ I called, feeling a sharp pain on my forehead as I scraped against the front of the stove, catching one of the knobs and cutting myself. Now that my eyes had adjusted a little to the light I pulled the cord, standing in the kitchen and inspecting the damage in a small mirror that hung over the sink.

A bead of blood formed at the cut and sent its way down the side of my face. I pulled a square of paper towel off the roll and pressed it against myself, my blood turning the paper red as I stared at myself.

Damn, I’m so helpless sometimes. All that I could think of as I wiped up the blood was how Peaches would have reacted if she’d been here. She’d have run to get the first aid kit and cleaned me up, putting a Band-Aid on the cut and kissing my forehead.

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