+twenty-three: ghost

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Wrong.

It felt so wrong.

I felt a tangible ache in my heart when a stranger's lips travelled down my body. Caleb was somehow rougher than Grayson had felt. Even though his touch was tender, as if almost afraid. His lips mouth travelled lower and lower, sucking on my skin. Through my drunken haze, I was barely aware of his touch. His hands reached between my legs and a shock wave travelled through my body.

Gray.

"Caleb...stop."

He stopped at once, leaning back to look at me. "Xav-?"

I stared up at the warped ceiling, trying to get hold of my senses. "S..stop."

He sighed softly and lay down beside me. I felt my stomach knotting in guilt. Sooner or later I was going to have to get over Grayson, but I was going to give myself time to grieve. 

We lay quietly, our bodies close together and yet a vast distance between us. What had I been thinking? I took a  deep breath, struggling to keep my voice even as I answered. "S...sorry. I'm so sorry, Caleb."

He turned to his side and stroked my cheek. I almost flinched at his touch. "It's okay, Xav. I know its hard. You really seem to love  him."

I bit my lip and glanced away from him. I did love him. But why had I hurt him then? It was ripping me apart. I shut my eyes, my stupor lulling me into a restless sleep. "Can I...stay here?"

I barely heard his whispered response before I gave in to the suffocating darkness.


                                                                                          *


I woke up to seventeen missed calls.

My heart leapt in hope. It had to be Grayson. 

My head throbbed with the effort of lifting my phone up and I barely managed to open my eyes and stare at the unfamiliar number. I fought the overwhelming sadness that rattled my heart when I didn't see the familiar name with the little heart beside it. I battled the urge to throw my phone against the wall, yearning to watch it break like my heart.

I wondered why this person was calling me with such desperation. I sighed and sat up straight, pain shooting up my head. Caleb wasn't anywhere to be seen and my throat felt parched. I got to my feet, staggering for a second before I made my way to the rows of shelves built into the wall where I could see a bottle of water sitting on the top shelf. I reached for it, feeling along the many sheaves of files. The shelf was taller than I expected and in my effort to reach it, the files fell to the floor. Loose sheets of paper scattered and I cursed under my breath. I took a drink of the bottle and crouched down to collect the sheets. 

I picked the brown folder in my lap and started piling the printed paper. I was slightly surprised to see that they all seemed to be numbers. Huge, six-figure numbers. I reached for one and studied it, my heart racing with each hazy word. The header of the page read 'Northern Heart Hospital,' below it was a set of address and contact details. My eyes moved lower and my heart stopped in my chest when I saw a name.

 'Atkinson.'

They looked like the financial records of the hospital. It seemed like Atkinson Corporations had made massive donations to them even before Rosalie had left it. I didn't know about this particular financial detail and something about it seemed a little off to me. Why would Scarlett send money to a hospital here? So far away from her place? There were plenty of hospitals there itself. And in an attempt to salvage their public image, her agent had made sure that all acts of charity were widely publicised. Why had I never heard of this one before?

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