Now that I’m getting what I wished for, I want to grip her by the throat and fuck that old bitch out of her.

Is the new Reina dead?

I stay in my room for two days—or that’s what I’ve determined based on counting the number of meals Izzy has brought me.

That gloomy cloud hovers over my head like imminent doom.

I fought it, you know—I tried to, anyway.

I tried not to let it occupy my thoughts, but at some point, it just did.

For the first time, I had no appetite for the food Izzy left in front of the door. I didn’t even shower or change clothes. I didn’t sleep or do anything.

For two days, I curled up under the covers in the dark and allowed those black thoughts to seep in.

They keep whispering and murmuring in hushed voices as if no one else should hear them. They’re only meant for me, after all.

Why don’t you just let go?

Why are you holding on to a life that means nothing to you?

No one would notice you’re missing, you know.

No fucking one.

Tingles assault my nose and pressure builds behind my eyes, but I don’t cry. It’s like I can’t. I don’t have the right to.

I don’t have the right to anything.

I’ve been resisting the cloud’s whispers and murmurs, but why should I? What is there to resist?

My life is a clusterfuck, and although I have nothing to lose, I have nothing to gain either.

If I go against Asher, if I make him pay for what he did to me, what good would it bring?

Will I feel liberated at the end? Would I find a new purpose for life?

He knocked on my door yesterday. I didn’t answer and he went away.

Good. I don’t want to see his face again, not ever.

I don’t want to think about how he played with my heart, body, and mind, how he allowed the gloomy cloud to sweep over me.

Or did he?

After all, the gloomy cloud is all in my head. I realize that, I do, but that doesn’t mean I can resist it.

My armor is still unable to rebuild after the shocks I’ve received.

A knock on the door startles me from my numb state. I don’t answer. If it’s Izzy, she’ll leave the plate in front of the door then return to take it back as it is.

“Reina.”

The heart I thought was long dead pulses back to life at that voice, the deep voice with slight huskiness, the voice that brought me happiness right before he shattered it and left me in the clutches of this gloomy cloud.

The doorknob rattles then snaps back into place due to the lock. “Open up.”

Why? So he can call me a monster and dig the knife deeper? So I’ll look at his face and realize he was never mine and I’ve been a fool all along?

No, thanks.

Besides, he’s after my life. He won’t stop until he drains the last breath out of me. A full-body shudder snakes under my skin at the thought.

“Open the fucking door or I will smash it to the ground.” His voice loses all patience, pulsing with pent-up rage.

I have no doubt he’ll break the thing if he chooses to.

Do I care? No.

He can do whatever he wants, but if he expects me to be the one who opens that door for him, he’ll be disappointed. It won’t be happening.

Villains shouldn’t be allowed inside under any circumstances. I made that mistake once, and look where it lead me.

“Reina.” He growls my name in that deep masculine way that still makes my toes curl.

When will he stop getting to me? Next week? Next month? How about next year?

“Hide while you can,” he says before his presence disappears from in front of the door.

I don’t know how I feel he’s no longer there, but I just do.

He’s gone. For now.

I throw the covers off. Somehow, his visit has raised my body temperature and sweat has broken out on my brows and temples.

He has that effect, Asher. He gets under your skin, and before you know it, he’s trapping you, tying you up on a roof, suffocating you, and planning to kill you.

God, this is so fucked up.

The room is dark and smells of my breaths and the residual scent of Asher on the sheets: sandalwood and citrus, warmth and coldness.

I didn’t change the sheets we fucked on. I probably should’ve, but I couldn’t be bothered.

With the thick curtains drawn over the window, I don’t even know if it’s night or day.

I retrieve my phone to check the time. I put it on airplane mode and haven’t paid it attention since.

It’s five in the evening.

As soon as I turn off airplane mode, my phone buzzes with endless messages, emails, and missed calls from the squad. Lucy and Naomi sent me shouty texts about where I’ve been.

I think about making up some sort of a lie. After all, that’s exactly how my life has been in the past: a liar, a homewrecker, and everything in between.

Besides, I don’t want to explain the state I’m in. I don’t even recognize it myself.

I contemplate telling them I have the flu when an Instagram DM catches my attention.

Cloud003. He sent it two days ago, meaning the night after Jason took me to the pool house.

It’s like he was checking up on me. My chest warms at the thought.

Jason did come by yesterday, but after a knock and no reply, he left.

I click on the message.

Cloud003: …

What the hell? Just three dots?

I type before I even think about it.

Reina-Ellis: What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

The reply is immediate.

Cloud003: Alien language. Keep up, Ellis.

That draws a small smile from me.

Reina-Ellis: What do you want from me?

Cloud003: Aside from your pussy?

I roll my eyes.

Reina-Ellis: Yes, aside from that.

Cloud003: Everything you have to offer, my slut.

Reina-Ellis: How about my dark thoughts?

I don’t know why the hell I mention that. I guess I need someone to vent to. Sure, I could’ve said it to Jason in person, but the semi-anonymity—from his side, not mine—gives me an inexplicable sense of courage.

Cloud003: The gloomy cloud?

My lips fall open as I stare at the words.

Reina-Ellis: How do you know about that?

Cloud003: I know everything about you.

Reina-Ellis: Are you like in my brain or something?

Cloud003: I wish. That way, I’d know everything firsthand.

Maybe I’ve told him about it in our encounters in the past. After all, Old Reina admitted to having feelings for him. Maybe that’s why Jason came to check on me.

Reina-Ellis: It’s painful. I can’t move or drink or eat or do anything. The only movement in my brain is this signal urging me to open the window and jump, just jump and see how freeing that is.

My fingers hover over the phone as the dots appear and disappear, indicating he’s typing.

No idea why I admitted that to him. I didn’t even admit it to myself earlier. All of a sudden, I needed those thoughts out there.

They’re in the world and I can’t take them back.

Cloud003: You jump in cheerleading—why would you want to jump in another way?