Stay Away from Pleasure

Chapter Forty-Eight

13:20PM

A strained groan comes out of my mouth as I turn over, stretching my muscles. The bright cracks of light, marking the floor of mine and Matt's bedroom, tell me it's way past morning. One glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table gets another groan out of me. How is it already the afternoon?

Just that question alone reminds me of this morning's events. Wow. And here was me waking up as if it was just a normal day. My sister is dead. She was raped. My father is dead. He was sick. He's buried. Jude was arrested. But Zack really killed Claire. And my mother's...

Wait. My mother.

Now that I think through everything, I realise that I haven't seen or heard from her since we were all at the hospital. Has Denny?

Where's Alice, too?

Denny wasn't very fond of the idea of Alice being so close to Jude once we decided to go to his house. He said she should just go home. She wasn't alone, though. Klaus drove her back and was told to stay with her until Denny arrived back home, just to make sure she was safe at all times.

I guess we're all a little more cautious now.

Who drove my mother home?

Oh no... She's not even from New York! She doesn't even have a damn home here! I should call–

The bedroom door opens and my eyes widen, awaiting the person on the other side to fully enter the room. A quick sigh of relief escapes me when I see that it's just Matt. He comes in holding a tray of what I assume and hope is food.

"Good, you're up." He smiles and places the tray on the bedside table, looking hot as hell in his worn out jeans and nothing else.

It's tofu noodle soup with various vegetables and it smells divine.

My mouth waters as I eye the soup and my tongue runs over my bottom lip.

"You hungry? I cooked." He strokes my hair as I sit up on the bed, nodding.

"I'm starving." I groan, kissing his hand.

He smiles and places the breakfast tray on the bed.

Before I touch my food, I look at him, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, head cocked to one side. "You eating?"

He shakes his head, "I already ate."

I pull his arm so that he sits on the edge of the bed. "Eat with me."

He strokes my hair again, "no. I'm full."

There's something in his eyes that lingers there. Whatever it is, it stops me from buying this act that everything's okay. It stops me from believing that he ate, that he's fine and that none of these recent events have affected him. He's hurt. And I don't blame him.

I rest my hand on his arm. "It's okay. You can talk to me."

He shakes his head, "I'm gonna go take a shower. I want that plate licked clean when I'm done okay?"

I smile as he kisses my head, "ok."

Watching him pretend he's fine kinda stings. What's worse, he's just lied to my face. He's not ok. I thought he would be able to trust me with these things after all we've been through. Yes, people in relationships say that a lot, but we have been through some tough shit and some of it has broken us, but some have only made us stronger.

Crap, I was gonna do something before Matt came in...

Hm, guess I forgot.

I rest my back on the pillow and take in the delicious aroma of the soup. Goddamn his skills have improved. Picking up the chopsticks that were so kindly placed on the breakfast tray for me, I go straight for the tofu, making sure I capture some of the noodles, and take a deep mouthful.