#Chapter400
My breathing gets more labored, but yet I am still silently straining to hear her. Picturing her in my head. Torturing myself with images of her naked last night.
It’s still dark out, clock says it’s before six and even that little fact hurts me. She never gets up before the sun is up, it’s against everything she is. Sophie has never been an early riser, she hates mornings with a passion, so I guess this is her trying to get away from me before I get up. Not that I blame her. I fucked us up royally last night, and the look on her face is all I can fixate on. It’s killing me to remember that betrayal, that pain in those eyes I love so much. It gnaws at me like an eternal twisting slice. Every time I see her in there, looking back at me with so much disappointment.
My throat constricts, and I have to fight the urge to clutch my gut. She knows how to make me bleed. With a look. A killing little look. A word. A sentence.
