Life Interrupted by Yessi Smith

Author:Yessi Smith [Smith, Yessi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense
ISBN: 2940152272802
Amazon: B019A7GNK4
Barnesnoble: B019A7GNK4
Goodreads: 25590523
Publisher: Yessi Smith
Published: 2016-01-14T05:00:00+00:00

After successfully boiling noodles and steaming vegetables, I wait for Travis and his supposedly famous meatballs as I stare out the kitchen window. It’s not my favorite scenery, but it’s still beautiful. While you can see the ocean from the kitchen, the window above the sink overlooks a small empty field beside the house where flowers and weeds have grown together, creating a sense of wildness I haven’t found in any of the manicured lawns on Harbour Island. I like the undomesticated touch the field adds to the otherwise perfection surrounding it. My eyes follow a seagull as it takes flight from the center of the field, and I let my mind wander, losing track of time in the process.

When I left Texas, I hoped to find some sort of semblance of myself. What I have found so far is so much more. I’m a survivor.

My nightmares might terrorize me in my sleep, but they no longer have a hold on me while I’m awake. They can’t touch me. I’m still able to function in spite of them. With Travis by my side, I’ve found that I can tolerate the darkness. I might never be fully comfortable in it, but I can survive it. Within the vulnerability lies a strength I might never have found if it weren’t for Travis and his love for the stars.

My past, my nonexistent memories, and the nightmares I can’t hold on to killed me. In a sense, they still kill me every day. But it’s in this death that I have found and made myself. I’ll probably never know whom Holly used to be, but I’m pretty happy with who she’s becoming.

Where once I was terrified of human contact, I have transformed into a woman who has sex. I touch my lips with my fingertips where they linger while I remember the impression of Travis’s lips against mine. My stomach tightens at the memory of his hands—those beautiful hands—grazing over my body, taking, demanding, and appealing to every part of me. I squirm and shift my body as the pulsing between my legs intensifies.

My first time having sex – at least to my recollection – and we’ve done it three times in one day. Twice this morning in Travis’s boat and the third time on his living room floor a few hours ago. I radiate with superior femininity at knowing he wanted me so badly that he couldn’t wait to reach the couch. That resulted in our bodies slamming against each other, landing on the floor where we tugged, pulled, and conquered one another. The bruise on my back that I received from our encounter is a medallion of sorts, and I wear it with pride.

Needing to celebrate this little victory, I pick up my phone and dial Amber.

“I just had sex,” I blurt out as soon as Amber greets me on the other line. “For the first time,” I emphasize.

I do a little dance and twirl, but I stop when I Amber’s laughter rings on the other end of the line.

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