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I liked the pain.
I deserved the pain.
For living.
When I was supposed to die.
I didn’t deserve to be pain-free.
So, I didn’t take their shitty pain pills.
Or their antidepressants.
Because some of the doctors had said I might have postpartum depression.
Well, the joke was on them. Because I didn’t have postpartum depression.
I had post-monster depression.
And there was fuck all I could do about that.
Sergio still walked the Earth.
The same Earth that I did.
And the same Earth that Dani and Marcello did.
None of us were safe.
I’d saved us from him.
I’d done my job.
Then I’d handed that job off to Carlo and Nick.
I was done.
And then I came back.
To all this bullshit.
“Giselle, if you want to talk, you know I’m here for you, right? I’m right down the hall.” Her voice was so soft and sweet. Almost like she cared.
I turned my head just enough so I could glare at her. “Oh, I see. And does Carlo ever come into your room for a visit?”
Her expression fell, and she stammered, “No, no, of course not. I’m in there with Nick.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Right. So, you’re telling me that the entire time I was,” my mind whirled around, thinking of what to say, “gone. That you and Carlo didn’t fuck each other? Because if you say no, I’ll know that you’re a fucking liar.”
Her eyes fell to the side, and that was when I knew—I knew what had gone on.
“I knew you’d want me to comfort him. And I needed comfort, too, Giselle. We were all so distraught that you and Dani were gone,” she tried to explain away her actions.
Their actions.
“So, while I was spreading my legs for a monster, you were spreading them for Carlo. Somehow that doesn’t seem like a very fair exchange, Evie,” I said her name with force. “You’re a fucking whore. I can’t believe you fucked the father of my baby while I was kidnapped. I fucking hate you so much.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she stood.
