Chapter SevenI lie awake, staring at the chandelier which glistens in the faintest beginnings of daylight filtering through the French windows. Beside me, Callum's deep, even breaths suggest he's still sleeping, so I take care not to move much so I don't disturb him.
There's a horrible, heavy feeling in my chest, like a weight holding me down under water. I'm drowning, desperate for air, but relief seems so impossibly out of reach, I don't know what to do.
This has been the best night of my life, and with it, it's the worst. What if I didn't go home today? What if I just ran away, wouldn't that solve everything?
I know it would not. The guilt of leaving behind my family would eat me up.
But don't I deserve to be happy too? Do I have to do without so Mum and Dad can be proud of who I am
