Chapter 9:

The Tide Comes In

Kelly cried. She lay in Nathan’s arms and knew she would leave first thing in the morning. Although Nathan had apologized, and profusely at that, he also called her Michelle as they made up—and not just during sex—but as she was about to climax. At that point, she had to fake it.

Kelly sobbed silently and caressed Nathan’s pale chest. He was so beautiful, so haunting with his cream colored skin, straw locks, and ice blue eyes; with his cool demeanor, and constant guardedness. He smelled good all sweaty: sweet and salty, like kettle corn.

She was still going to leave him. She had no choice. She was just a body in place of the real thing, which lay six feet under.

Kelly shook with silent sobs. Damn you, Michelle.

The entire relationship had an unreal feel, as if it was just a mirage, tainted with intoxication. She wanted him so bad—but not like this. She could not play second fiddle. She was not built for the role of the understudy. She deserved the stage, the spotlight, her name printed above the title.

But this would never happen. She’d never get out of the supporting role, and that was not enough. She could not—would not settle.

Nathan must have sensed her distress as he slept, perhaps dreaming of it, because he pulled Kelly against him, as if to comfort her.

Infected with doubt, Kelly wondered if he dreamed of Michelle. She’d never get Michelle out of her system so long as she was with him: never ever. Michelle was the disease, and Nathan was the carrier.

She snuggled up against him, knowing she had to leave with the morning light, knowing that she must escape in order to return to herself. She’d feared this, and yet, had expected it.

So long. Farewell. Adieu. Damn you.

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