The stormy gray gaze I blink my eyes open to tells me it is all a dream. Sammy, Mark, the beach house and the simple life are just some facades of my imagination.
I am still stuck in this hell hole. My life is still as messy as I left it.
Michael's brows knit at me, "Were you having a dream?"
Ignoring him, I roll to face the other side, shutting my eyes as tight as I can. I hate that this dream didn't continue. But what I hate the most is that I woke up to a nightmare.
"You don't wanna answer me or what?" he demands.
"What are you still doing here?" I demand back.
"What sort of silly question are you asking me when you know fully well that this house also belongs to me. Mi casa es su casa, or have you forgotten?"
I try getting off the bed, knowing fully well that I have time for everything, except for some ridiculous drama with him this morning. But he stops me, using his hand to set a barrier.
