The Roommate by Kiersten Modglin (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

like this. That was truly how I felt—as if something inside of me had broken. Something had snapped beyond repair, and no amount of booze or bad TV or time would ever be able to fix it.

I was broken.

She had broken me.

And I didn’t care about picking up the pieces.

Tick, tick, tick.

The fan spun around, the metal chain clinking against the glass bulb covers.

Tick, tick, tick.

What had she done?

Tick, tick, tick.

Why had she given up on us?

Tick, tick, tick.

Why wasn’t I worth fighting for?

Tick, tick, tick.

Was I so easy to give up on?

The door to my room opened again, and I flicked my gaze down. Elias stood there, studying me.

“It was bad, huh?” he said simply.

I gave a jerked nod.

“Is she cheating on you?”

One shoulder gave way to a shrug.

“I’m sorry, man. I really am. Do you wish I hadn’t told you?”

I sniffled, wiping a stray tear as it dripped down into my hairline. “It wasn’t what you thought,” I said. “But it could’ve been. Next time, it could be.”

“What do you mean?” He took a step toward the bed.

“It’s officially done,” I said. “She’s going to start the process.”

“Divorce?” he confirmed.

I met his eye, giving an answer without saying a word.

He huffed out a heavy breath. “Well, at least you know now, right?”

“I wish I didn’t,” I croaked.

“You don’t mean that.”

But I did. I did mean it because even living a lie was easier than this. “I just want to be alone, man. Please.”

He took a step back, departing without another word. I closed my eyes, listening to the whirring of the fan and trying to force my brain to stop producing thoughts. Everything was a challenge. A drain on resources I couldn’t afford to use. I needed to rest, but I couldn’t find sleep. Everything just hurt. Everything reminded me of her.

When the door opened again, minutes or hours could’ve passed. I wasn’t sure. I planned to be stern with Elias, to tell him to go away, but when I looked down, the person standing there wasn’t Elias at all.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Stephanie’s face was solemn, yet there was an apology in her eyes. She knew what had happened. “You gave me an extra Coleton Day autograph.” One of my newest clients. “I was going to bring it back.”

“You can leave it with Elias.”

She made her way across the room anyway, sitting down on the bed. She didn’t say anything, just put a hand on my chest and lay down beside me. Together, we stared up at the ceiling. She smelled nice, like warm vanilla or something baking. It was different than she’d smelled last night. Not better or worse, but different.

I felt her hand slide down my arm, felt her lace her fingers through mine. When she looked at me, I turned my head without thinking and met her eyes. She blinked slowly. There was an understanding there. A question.

I closed my eyes, nodding slightly, then became still as a tear slid down my cheek. Before I could open my eyes, I felt her release my hand, felt the bed shift and heard it squeak as she rolled over on her side. She tossed her leg over my stomach, put a hand on the back of my neck, and pressed her lips to mine.

I didn’t shy away, didn’t stop her as her kiss grew deeper. Then, I felt myself responding. I kissed her harder, faster, lifting my hand to the back of her neck and pulling her closer to me. My body grew warm with desire as her body pressed into mine.

I felt every moment of the passion, as real and familiar as it had ever been, but it was different somehow. Different with her. It was as if I were watching it happen on TV, our bodies melded together, our lips parting, tongues exploring. Almost as if I was no longer in control of my body, as if I were floating somewhere up above watching it transpire.

I watched as I ran my fingers through her hair, tugging on the dark strands playfully as I nipped at her neck before pulling her on top of me. I watched as she took her shirt off, then mine. I didn’t stop her as she reached for my belt, nor did I stop her as she trailed kisses down my stomach.

My tears continued to blur my vision, anger, sadness, and desire fighting for my attention as she pulled my pants toward my ankles before removing her own. My thoughts screamed at me that it was wrong, but I was incapable of stopping it. I didn’t want to stop it. I was incapable of doing anything but watching, still floating up above when we were both suddenly stripped of our clothes. Still floating as she sank down on top of me, and I felt myself moving within her, felt her nails digging into my chest. My body moved without volition, desire controlling it completely as I watched it happen mindlessly, our bodies writhing under the sheets, a steady stream of tears on my cheeks. I was still floating up above as she kissed away those tears, keeping a steady rhythm as she moved on top of me slowly, running a hand through her hair as her breasts bounced hypnotically.

Still floating as I watched her head fall back with ecstasy, her movements slowing for moments, then quickening all at once.

Still floating up above as my vision blurred and leg muscles tightened from my own release moments later.

When it was over, my body exhausted and raw, I felt like I’d been torn open. I felt broken. It was so real and so dreamlike all at once. I cried some more, the once-silent tears turning into outright sobs, and Stephanie wrapped her arms around me, allowing me to fall to pieces on her chest. What had I done? Why did it hurt so badly? She stayed with me as my sobs lulled me to sleep. Just the two of us, our