GUILT LAURA
I closed the door to Josh's room as quietly as I could, my chest heaving like I'd just run a marathon. My legs felt shaky, my hands trembling as I pressed them against the cool wood for support. The air in the hallway was stifling, thick with everything. I'd just done. What the hell was wrong with me?
I was supposed to be here for Jess. Jess. My best friend. And instead, I'd—
My stomach churned violently, and I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. I needed to move. I needed to do something, anything, to wash away the guilt clawing its way up my throat.
I stumbled down the hall and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. The sound of the lock clicking into place gave me a fleeting sense of security, but it was quickly replaced by the suffocating weight of my actions.
I turned the shower on full blast, not waiting for the water to warm up. The icy spray hit my skin, and I gasped, but I didn't step away. Instead, I grabbed the loofah and soap and scrubbed. Hard.
It wasn't enough.
No matter how much I washed, no matter how red my skin
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09:15
GUILT
288 Noucher's
of the shame. I'd slept
brother, for crying out
shut as the events of the night played on a loop in my head. His hands, his mouth, the way he'd looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. For
at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red-rimmed, my cheeks flushed
dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie before heading downstairs. The kitchen was dark, but I didn't bother turning on the lights. Instead, I moved on autopilot, grabbing the coffee pot and setting it
could I have done
She invited me into her home, into her life, and I'd repaid her by
didn't matter what Josh had said or
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09.15
wouldn't
poured two cups, adding cream and sugar to one just the way Jess liked
room, sat down, waiting for her. My heart was pounding,
her eyes rimmed with exhaustion. She stopped when she saw me sitting there, and for a moment, I thought she could see right through me.
her hands around the cup but not drinking. She stared at the
you something," I began,
she said, her
swallowed hard, nodding.
hands tightening around the mug. "Bryan... he... he
me like a freight train, and my
I whispered,
"We
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