-Carmen Silvers POV-
When I woke up to someone stroking my hair, I nearly had a heart attack. I struggled to keep breathing deeply and to pretend I was asleep. As I breathed I caught a scent that made me want to run as far away from my house as possible.
He shouldn’t be here. Not after what happened before.
Minutes passed, each one ticking by slowly before I heard a sigh and felt him lean over me, his hand pausing in it’s stroking, “I know you’re awake and have been for the past few minutes,” he said softly.
I cringed and opened my eyes, struggling to stay in that same position with his hand resting on my hair.
Austin looked down at me with worried eyes, still playing with my hair anxiously, “Are you okay?” he asked.
I sat up, a good excuse to pull away from him, “I’m fine,” I said curtly, wrapping my arms around my waist.
I heard him exhale in relief, “Then what happened before? I tried to go after you but Caleb…” he bit off the end of his sentence with a growl.
“He planned it,” he hissed, “He knew how much it would hurt it he let me take control again when he was kissing Jeanine.”
Jeanine. A dull throb started in my chest again at the thought, the image of them popping up in my mind again.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it out.
“Anyways, after you left he came back again and I had to wait for him to get tired enough before I came back and followed you,” he finished, sounding slightly calmer. I felt his hands touch my arms and rest there, “Are you sure you’re okay? What happened to your hands? And your ankle?”
“I fell,” I said quietly, wishing he’d stop touching me even though I still wanted him to touch me. I was so confused; did I want him or not? After today…I didn’t know. I know deep in my heart I still loved him…but that image of her and Austin just kept playing and I wanted nothing to do with him because of that.
His arms closed around me and I felt a tear slip down my cheek, feeling horrible. He came to see if I was okay, and I was wondering if I still loved him. What kind of person was I?
But no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t work up the energy to move, to assure him I was okay, that we were okay. So I sat there, stiff and uncomfortable in his arms.
“Do you want me to fix your hands?” he asked.
I shook my head mutely.
“Why are you crying?” he whispered as he let go and came around to my front, taking my bandaged hands.
I opened my eyes, another tear slipping out, “You shouldn’t be here,” I choked out.
Confusion passed across his face, “What?”
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered, “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Why not? I was worried and I wanted to make sure—”
“Then you should have left as soon as you saw I was fine,” I shook my head, “You shouldn’t have stayed with me.”
“Carmen, I don’t get it,” he said, looking confused and hurt, “What are you saying?”
“I don’t want you here,” I whispered. Just saying the words made pain flash through my heart and I inhaled sharply at it, my head spinning out of control. I wondered how bad Austin must have felt when I said that.
“Why not?” he asked, clutching his chest, silver eyes wild.
“I can’t…I see you and her…and I just can’t…” I struggled to find an appropriate way to explain it to him, how screwed up about this I was. But even I didn’t understand it.
