9. - – Sarah
CHAPTER NINE
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SARAH
My hands haven’t stopped shaking since I got in the car and drove home. Not out of fear. No. I’m overwhelmed. I kissed him. But it was more than that. He kissed me back like he was starving.
I drop my forehead to the steering wheel and let out a shaky laugh. “What the hell are you doing, Sarah?”
Three months of telling myself I wasn’t ready for anything more than learning how to sleep without waking up screaming.
Then Marcus shows up with water bottles, and his stupidly soft eyes, and all the careful walls I built start cracking like thin ice.
But it wasn’t bad. It didn’t feel like we did anything wrong. I felt… warm, safe, wanted.
I let out a breath and lean back in my seat.
I can’t remember the last time someone truly wanted me without wanting anything in return.
He didn’t demand the kiss. He didn’t make the first move.
He moved so slowly that I had every chance to run away if I needed to, and that’s why I felt safe enough to push my own boundaries and kiss him.
A knock on my window startles me so hard my heart leaps into my throat. My neighbor holds a basket of muffins up so I can see them. I exhale and roll down my window. “God, you scared me.”
“Sorry, dear,” she says. “Made these fresh this morning and thought the kids would like some. Everything okay?”
I nod, forcing a smile. “They’d love that. Thank you.”
I climb out of the car and take the basket, then watch as she returns to her house. Smiling down at the sweet-smelling chocolate muffins in my hand, I head inside.
Friday. I have a date on Friday.
I set the muffins in the kitchen and brace myself on the counter. Maybe I should text him and make sure he’s okay—that I didn’t cross a boundary.
I should calm down.
But I can’t text him again. Not yet. I don’t want to be pushy or seem as desperate as I feel.
Peeling off my jacket, I go upstairs and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my lips are swollen. Is this what hope looks like?
Three months ago, I couldn’t look in the mirror without being haunted by what Mitch did to me, and now… he’s not there.
I run my hand down my face and head for my closet. Maybe I can do this. Maybe I’ll be fine.
But now I have to figure out what I’m going to wear.