Forget Me Not by Willow Winters

Author:Willow Winters [Winters, Willow]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-12T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Robin

He couldn't help but leave me.

It’s all I could think while I stood in the hot stream of water.

I run my fingers through my damp hair as I sit on the bed in the basement.

I’m not sure if John is coming or not. I haven’t seen him since he left me yesterday, but it seems fitting to wait for him here. At least one of them will come.

I was foolish enough to think when the bathroom door creaked open and the hot steam drifted away from me that it was Jay, but it was only Toby. Hours later and still no sign of Jay.

My heart splinters as I cross my legs, and I have to close my eyes because of the aching reminder of last night. It was everything I thought it would be and more, but now I’m left alone, just like I was this morning.

I pull the lone pillow on the bed into my lap and lean against the wall, staring at the door. What a good little victim I’m being for him. My stomach sinks and my mouth dries up. I stay where I’m told to and spread my legs for him, begging him to ruin me.

I close my eyes and turn away from the closed door as Toby whines on the other side.

Jay’s not the only one fucked up in the head.

I’m so busy wallowing that I don’t hear John come in. It’s not until he clears his throat and the door shuts with a thud that I realize he's here now. The air is tense and awkward between us, and I instantly wonder if he knows.

“There you are,” he says and attempts a pleasant smile but he fails. “How are you feeling today?” he asks me cautiously, striding to the camera to turn it on and then fiddling with it as if there’s anything new to focus on. I think it’s just so he doesn’t have to look at me.

“Used,” I tell him flatly, watching for his reaction. He stills for a moment and my heart beats faster, but then he moves to the chair, the blinking red light greeting me as John takes a seat and the metal legs scrape and produce that irritating sound.

“Are you okay?” he asks me, leaning forward. It’s feigned concern. He doesn’t mean it. The realization makes tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I hold the pillow tighter.

“Why do you care?” I ask him out of anger. My words are shaky, and I use my middle finger to wipe under my eyes. I won’t cry over this. I refuse to.

“Robin,” John says my name with sympathy and compassion before rising from the chair and quickly coming to the bed. “Did he hurt you?” he asks me, and I simply shake my head. He rests a hand on my back, but he’s holding back.

“You don’t-” I try to speak, but my words are muted by the lump in my throat. “I’m hurt because I feel as though I don’t matter to you.

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