Chris
My conversation with Lucas opened a fresh can of worms. One filled with guilt and self-hate and regret. As had been the case since my arrival from the hospital, Lucas' side of the bed was as smooth and cold as I left it when I went to bed last night, succumbing to the pills pumped into my body daily. From the countless arrays of guestrooms in this mansion, I was sure he would have no issues finding a place to sleep.
Not like I had asked him to leave though. Not like I would not leap with joy if he came back to our bed. Our contact in the last two weeks had been limited to tentative touches and brief glances. As much as I yearned for Lucas and I to go back to where we were before our world was thrown into a whirlwind, when he had proposed to me I knew I deserved it. I deserved his
