I refuse to believe the words resounding in my ears. Anna had asked me a question with an obvious answer, but still, I hesitated. She called me stupid and pointed out the logical thing to do, but my brain was short-circuited, and my heart has been running me for some time now.
She dressed up as the night was closing in, having work to do. I wanted to go downstairs to whatever he was doing. I didn't though—I don't know what I'd do if I caught them together. Drag him away maybe, but Anna glued my butt to the chair with one simple truth: "He is not yours."
I knew. I know. If only she knew how many times I'd repeated that mantra. I was sure I slept off to those words on my lips, hoping it would do something to reduce how my heart was smashing against him on its own accord, but nothing change
