Del
As I stare at him, at the man who’s going to be my undoing if I don’t put an end to our story, I feel helpless, like a deer caught in headlights.
He only smiles at me, approaching me slowly, cautiously, like I might bolt at any given chance, not considering the fact that this is my house and he’s invading my space, so technically I have nowhere else to run to.
So, he figured it out. When his mother told him who I was, he did make the connection to the other part of the story. He probably knows what everyone does, which is not much, it’s utter bullsh*it, but somehow, for whatever reason, I don’t want him to think that this is me. The stupid damsel in distress who was fooled by everyone in her life and it all lead to tragedy. That’s not who I am. That’s not how it happened.
“That’s n
