The Lies He Told Me (Grace and Antonio)

Sabrina stifled a giggle. "Grace, you're not mad, are you?" she challenged, a glint in her eyes.

I mumbled, pressing my throbbing forehead. "I don't care."

An awkward silence descended.

Sabrina looked down, then, using a nail clipper, began peeling off the sticker, muttering apologies.

The scraping sound grated on my nerves. I put on headphones, but Antonio's gaze, through the rearview mirror, was unwavering.

He then said to Sabrina, "Grace's getting worse. Hospital."

My condition, exacerbated by their relentless torment, had progressed to pneumonia.

Treatment escalated from IVs to inpatient care, but Sabrina refused to stay.

She anxiously checked her phone, seemingly bombarded with messages.

Antonio asked, "Friend's waiting?"

Sabrina shook her head, feigning distress. "My friend wants to see us, but Grace is sick. I can't leave her."

her, whispering assurances, tears streaming down Sabrina's cheeks as if she were

My helplessness was crushing

came to change my IV. She called for Antonio

midnight, the strong scent of alcohol alerted

and Antonio, practically intertwined, were kissing in my

intervened,

man kissing

I nodded.

He looked you're.

They waltzed

Pop vel not me in disbelief.

swovenet

a motel!" :

can't control them, and they mean nothing to

recognizing my

me if

barely visited, sending messages promising immediate arrival if

unwell.

him because he had blocked my number and my Facebook