Page 64 of Shattered Saint
But I wasn’t the villain.
The villain of this story could be many different things. Each and every one of them detrimental to the world the Hensons had built around them.
Good.
As I slammed the mailbox slot closed, I shrugged my shoulders and breathed a satisfied sigh.
This was all just getting started.
27
BIANCA
The warm glow from my floor lamp illuminated my apartment, but that was the only thing that felt bright in my life. Not even lighting my pumpkin-scented candles could bring me peace and shake the mood I was in.
I tucked my legs under me as I got comfortable on my couch, watching the flames of the candles burn. I hated that all my thoughts were about Easton, and how I not only wanted to have him fuck my brains out, but I wanted to spend time with him outside the bedroom too.
What had I gotten myself into?
I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples in frustration. I couldn’t deny the truth any longer, and I hated it. Easton had somehow dug his way into my heart, and that scared me more than anything.
This agreement we struck was bothering me, and I knew I had to do something about it. Fast.
But what would he think and say? That was the hardest part of all of this.
"Was any of this even worth it?" I whispered to myself, groaning because I didn’t have an answer to the question.
My fears about Easton and about what my father was hiding, tormented me endlessly. If I told Easton how I was feeling, and he didn’t feel the same way, what would I do? If he did feel the same way I felt, would it be just as simple as us tossing our hats into the ring and seeing how a relationship between us would work? What would our families think?
There was too much to think about on top of the other priorities I was dealing with. I glared at the bottle of wine sitting on my counter, begging me to open it and just take one sip. That was all I would need to forget all this shit for a little while.
Who was I kidding? If I took one sip, it would cascade into me drinking the whole damn bottle, and then I’d be on the search for more. I needed to find something I could focus on that would take away my thoughts about Easton.
I turned on my television as a way to kill time and turn my brain off, but nothing I was even remotely interested in watching was on.
I couldn’t help but remember the way that his eyes softened when he watched me, and the shift in our dynamic after we’d had sex in his SUV after his football game.
“Why is this so complicated?" I asked out loud just before I buried my face in my hands. I needed to gain enough courage to go and talk to him instead of talking to myself.
I reached over and grabbed my phone, debating whether it was a smart idea to text him to see if he was busy this evening. It was a weekday evening, so maybe he was free outside of doing homework or studying.
I stood up and stretched my body before I began my ritual of pacing back and forth in my living room. Part of me wished that the next step I took would lead to the ground opening up and swallowing me whole. I managed to make it to my window, and I looked out at Brentson surrounding me, wondering what the hell I was going to do. I needed to decide whether I should talk to him about this or just let it go and know that he’d continue to be in my life for as long as he was in Nash’s.
And then an idea popped into my head.
I spun around, and this time my walking had a purpose. I walked over to my printer and grabbed a piece of white paper. I found a pen that I hadn’t put away and drew a line down the middle. On one side I wrote 'Pro' and on the other side I wrote 'Con.' This was the best way I could think of to do this without telling someone and asking for advice.
I could tell Iris about this, but I didn’t want to stress her out. I was going over to her dorm in a few days anyway, to help her get ready for a ball she’d been invited to.
“Alright,” I said as I tucked a strand of my blonde hair behind my ear. “Let’s write these down.”
I tapped my pen on my desk as my gaze slid over to the window. Then a reason came to mind.
"One pro," I said to myself. "If I talk to Easton, we can figure out what's going on between us. If we are on the same page, maybe we can… be together."
"Also," I continued, "if we discuss this, and he doesn’t feel the way I do, I can move on without having the question in the back of my mind for eternity."
With a sigh, I said, “Cons… If I don’t talk to Easton, I’ll never know if there was anything real between us. I’ll always be wondering ‘what if.’ Also, what if Easton rejects me? If he doesn’t feel something toward me outside of fucking me, then this conversation is going to be awkward as hell, and I’ll have to do my best to avoid him for until he graduated.”
