Chapter 50
764 Words
CHAPTER 50
ANGELA
“No, I don't.”
I said it quickly.
Almost too quickly.
Benedicta stared at me.
I could tell from her expression that she didn't believe me.
“I just feel guilty,” I added. “Can't I have a conscience?”
She sighed.
“Angela, having a conscience is not the problem.”
“Then what is?”
“You're torturing yourself.”
I frowned.
“How?”
“You keep acting like you committed some terrible crime because you accepted a man you actually like.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
I stood up.
“I don't know if I love him.”
“You don't have to know that yet.”
“But he thinks—”
“He thinks you're his girlfriend.”
“Exactly.”
“And you are.”
I looked at her.
“That doesn't mean I have to be in love with him.”
“No, it doesn't.”
“Then why are you making it sound like I'm doing something wrong?”
“Because you're acting like Damian has been deceived just because you haven't figured out your feelings yet.”
My jaw tightened.
“You know why I said yes.”
Benedicta's expression changed.
“Yes. I know.”
“Then stop making me feel like I'm supposed to be happy about it.”
“I never said that.”
“You keep telling me I'm not a bad person, but you don't understand how this feels.”
“Because you're refusing to understand yourself.”
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you're so focused on feeling guilty that you haven't even given yourself a chance to figure out what you actually feel for him.”
“I don't need to figure anything out right now.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don't.”
“Angela—”
“I said I don't!”
Silence filled the room.
I immediately regretted raising my voice.
Benedicta looked at me for a few seconds.
“You're angry with me.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I'm not.”
“You are, because I'm telling you something you don't want to hear.”
I grabbed my purse.
“I should go.”
She stood.
“Angela.”
“I need to go home.”
“You're upset.”
“I'll be fine.”
“Then stay until you calm down.”
“I said I'm going.”
She sighed.
“Fine.”
I walked toward the door.
“Angela.”
I stopped but didn't turn around.
“I wasn't trying to attack you.”
“I know.”
“I just don't want you destroying yourself over something you haven't even figured out yet.”
I swallowed.
“Maybe I need to figure it out alone.”
Then I walked out.
---
By the time I got home, I was exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
I locked the door behind me and leaned against it.
The apartment was quiet.
Too quiet.
I dropped my purse on the floor and walked into my bedroom.
I didn't want to talk to anyone.
Not Damian.
Not Benedicta.
Nobody.
I locked my bedroom door too.
Then I sat on my bed and stared at the wall.
What was wrong with me?
Why couldn't I just accept what was happening?
Why did everything have to feel so complicated?
My phone vibrated.
I knew who it was before looking.
Benedicta: Are you home?
I didn't answer.
Another message came.
Benedicta: I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you.
I stared at the screen.
My anger slowly faded.
She had only been trying to help me.
I typed.
Me: I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have shouted at you.
She replied almost immediately.
Benedicta: It's okay.
I looked at the message for a moment.
Then another one appeared.
Benedicta: Just don't shut me out.
My eyes burned.
Me: I won't.
I placed the phone beside me.
It was evening by then.
The sky outside had turned dark, and the apartment was almost completely silent.
I walked into the living room and switched on the light.
I had barely taken two steps when I heard it.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I froze.
My heart immediately started pounding.
Another knock came.
I slowly turned toward the door.
Benedicta.
No.
It couldn't be her.
She had a key.
Which meant whoever was standing outside...
Wasn't Benedicta.
And suddenly, every warning I'd received came rushing back into my mind.
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