Passionate Exchange

Chapter Fifty-Five

I open my eyes the next morning to the sun seeping in through the curtains and forget about the events of the night before for a split second. For that split second, I simply feel the happiness that I'm back with my family in London.

Then, everything comes crashing down. I close my eyes and rub my head to relieve the growing headache but instead of seeing darkness, I see him. Everywhere. His angered face right in front of mine. I'm hit with the gut-wrenching pain just like I was then.

My eyes dart open but it doesn't help. This room is no longer my room. It's a room full of memories of him. He's on my bed, at the door, sitting at my desk. The disappointment on his face when I asked him the question, he'd been dreading flashes in my mind.

I stumble out of bed and into the bathroom, ripping my clothes off and throwing them onto the floor. I don't bother taking my hair out of the braids they're in or wiping yesterday's makeup off my face. Instead, I turn the shower on, stepping straight in.

The scalding hot water hits my skin. I stand motionless, allowing it to wash away his touch. I want to erase everywhere he's touched me. I want to forget the words he whispered to me. I want to forget how he makes me feel.

I roughly grab the soap and wash every inch of my body as if it will make me forget. I want to go back to the girl who got off the plane. The girl who only worried about settling into a new place. I want to see Archer as Penny's brother, an acquaintance, not someone with who I shared some of the best moments.

As the steam surrounds me and clouds my vision, I press myself against the wall, leaning onto it for support. What am I doing?

I heave out a deep sigh and thrust my hands into my hair. The truth is, I don't want any of that. I don't want to forget, I don't want to feel any differently towards him, and I don't want him to be anything less than what he is. I want him to be more. I always wanted him to be more.

I opened up to him, showed him the deepest parts of me that I never thought I would have shown anyone. Is this what it feels like to have your heart ripped out of your chest and broken into little pieces?

I sink to the tiles beneath me, curling up into a ball. The water hitting my skin feels like needles, but I don't move. I cry hard. My tears mix with the soap suds and they both go down the drain. Just like the unnamed thing with me and Archer.

He said if he knew we would end up like this he never would have kissed me. Would I have refrained from kissing him if I knew? The answer is no. I wouldn't have stopped myself. I laugh in between the sobs. Am I really that stupid?

I've seen heartbreak countless times in movies. Bella Swan sits in the same chair in the same room for months on end, staring aimlessly out of the same window. Amanda upends her life to get away from her supposed significant other by doing a home exchange.

You witness their pain but never really understand it. You can never understand something until you experience it yourself. Now, I understand. But the funny thing is if I sit in my room and stare out of my window like Bella, Archer will only be metres away from me. I'm already living in a different home, so Amanda's coping mechanism is off the table too.

The only two options I have are to deal with it and go back to Portland like I planned or give up and stay in London. How do I know what to choose? If there were someone who could decide for me then I would gladly let them. But I know that I have to make this decision myself.

I hope I make the right one.

I get out of the shower; put on the comfiest pyjamas I own and get straight back into bed. Although, my plan to wallow in my self-pity for the rest of the day until I fall asleep is thrown out of the window by my dad.