Page 2 of Shattered Sinner
I walked over and grabbed the bottle before I took a long swig of the liquid. There was nothing quite like it, but I couldn’t help but be annoyed that I wasn’t drinking anything stronger. This wasn’t the first time I'd used alcohol to place a warm blanket over my feelings, but not even it could calm the whirlwind of thoughts that were colliding in my brain.
What the hell was I going to do?
I walked back to my coffee table and set the bottle down in its new resting place before I sat down on my couch.
My pro-con list would be an excellent addition to this conversation, but I couldn’t get myself to think of any reason for or against each side. Instead, I took another gulp of my wine before I sat back on the couch.
If I were to go through with this marriage, what would it be like? One thing I knew for sure was that I wasn’t ready to be a wife, especially not to someone I barely knew. But… ending up on someone else’s arm would make Easton see red.
It was a foolish thing to think about.
There was nothing I could do right now except to take another long drink of wine. And that I did.
2
BIANCA
Icounted to ten before I walked into my psychology class. I tried everything I could to calm the nerves that were on the fritz. This had been the moment I’d been dreading since the last time I saw Easton, and now there was an even bigger issue I needed to deal with that he was also to blame for.
I made my way toward my usual seat, but there was something more unsettling about this moment. I could feel Easton's eyes on me, watching my every move. I chose to ignore him, instead focusing on one of my classmates, who’d given me a smile. I was hoping he'd take the hint and leave me alone. That was a silly thought because, of course, he had no intention of doing so. He leaned in, and I instinctively moved my body away from his.
“Hey. We need to talk."
I didn't bother to look at him because what was the point? The only thing that looking at him would do was bring on more pain. "No, we don't."
"We will talk after class," he said.
I balked at his demand. "No, we won’t."
I could hear the wheels in his head turning as he tried to find a better way to approach this situation. “Bianca, it wouldn’t take much for you to—"
"Easton," I interrupted sharply as I turned to face him. He wasn’t going to manipulate this situation and force me to do anything. "There's nothing left to say, so fuck off.”
He looked confused for a moment, but I turned away before my brain focused on dissecting it further. The last thing I wanted to do was focus on how he might be feeling because that meant reliving everything that happened. Hell, I still hadn’t processed what I was feeling. I also had more important things to worry about, like, I don’t know, finding out where my best friend was and getting married to basically stranger.
I watched as Dr. Chen walked into the room, a welcome reprieve from Easton’s questioning or desire to talk to me. When she started speaking, I tried to focus on the words coming out of her mouth, but my mind kept wandering. Not to mention the heavy pull I felt toward Easton which served as a reminder of everything that was left unresolved between us.
"Miss Henson?"
I jumped as Dr. Chen's voice brought me back to the present. I turned to see her standing behind me. After realizing that I’d been daydreaming, a warm flush began to cover my cheeks because now I was embarrassed.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, a confused expression covering her face.
I forced a smile and said, "Everything's fine." I felt slightly guilty about lying. Everything felt wrong, but there was no way that I was going to answer any questions pertaining to what happened, especially in public.
"You look as if you’re in pain," she said as I could hear the genuine concern in her tone.
I didn’t know whether I should be offended that she said those words or not. I wanted to crawl under this desk and hide. Not only did I have her eyes trained on me, but I had to deal with Easton, and I wasn’t sure if he’d stopped staring at me since I walked into the room.
When my throat felt as if it was being constricted, I knew there was no way I was going to be able to keep pretenses up. The lump in my throat grew larger as tears welled up in my eyes. It had been a long time since anyone had asked how I was doing.
"It's… personal," I said. My voice was barely above a whisper, and I wondered for a second if she’d heard me. The fact that I was able to say something at all was a miracle.
"Would you like to be excused from class?” she asked.
It took a moment for me to see the light, but when I recognized the opportunity, I snatched it. "Thank you, Dr. Chen. I appreciate it. I’m going to go talk to one of the therapists here at Brentson."
"I think that’s the right solution," she said as she placed a hand on my shoulder. "If you need something else, let me know."
