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Good Girl(47)

By:Willow Winters


“Just a bad dream,” I whisper. His shoulders stay tense and his mouth parts slightly. He doesn’t believe me. “Will you hold me?” I ask him. He likes it when I ask him to comfort me. And I like it, too. I need it. I feel so safe in his arms.

“Of course, baby.” He kisses my lips and pulls me closer to him. “I’ve got you, baby.”

I close my eyes, but I’m very much awake. He doesn’t have me. He hardly even knows me. And if he did, I’d be nothing to him.





Ava





“You look beautiful, baby,” Kane says, and then kisses the crook of my neck. “But I think you need a little something extra.” I turn in his arms, and stand on my tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips. He grins at me as he reaches in his back pocket.

My heart sputters in my chest. Could it possibly be a ring? No. I shove down that hope even though it’s clawing its way up my chest. These last two weeks have been a dream come true. We have a cute little apartment I’m making into a home. I just got accepted into the university. All the little things on my wishlist are getting checked off.

And it’s all because of Kane. He’s my everything, and I feel like he loves me. I feel like we’re meant to be together. The doubt I had seems to dim each day. Most of the time I think we’re perfectly happy, perfectly fit for one another. I almost feel whole with him.

But a ring?

He’d be committing his life to me. To a liar. The dark voice that’s gone quiet for so long speaks up, and depression shatters the fantasy in my head.

“These.” He opens the box to reveal a pair of drop dangle sapphire earrings. “I think they’d really bring out your eyes.” My heart slows, and my world seems to stop. They’re beautiful. He gently pries one from the box and I quickly hold out my hand, waiting with bated breath.

I put them on one at a time and then face myself in the mirror. The silver boatneck dress I’m wearing clings to my curves. It sparkles in the mirror. My skin looks radiant. I’ve certainly gained weight. My hand rests on my lower tummy. Maybe a little too much weight. I clear my throat as Kane’s eyes catch mine in the mirror.

Déjà vu hits me. I remember what I looked like that day. My eyes drift to my neck, where the collar used to be. Where Kane’s collar was that day. I look to the small jewelry box on top of the dresser. He thinks I threw it away, but I didn’t. I don’t want to. It reminds me of that day and who I really am. I feel the blood drain from my face as the day plays fast-forward before my eyes.

“Do you like them?”

“I love them.” I force out a peppy voice and try to show him my sincerest gratitude.

I feel like a fraud. I don’t know what I’ve been doing all these days playing house with Kane. That’s what it feels like now that I’m reminded who I am. It’s fake. It’s all pretend.

I close my eyes and try to will away the feelings, but instead I see a flash of his face. My eyes open quickly and I instantly catch Kane’s questioning expression in the mirror.

“Are you alright, baby?”

“Yeah.” I force a casual smile onto my face and then look back in the mirror. My fingers touch the sapphires and I watch as they sparkle in the mirror. They’re beautiful.

But I don’t deserve them.



White tablecloths cover every table. Some have pale pink overlays, while others have a soft lavender. There are at least 20 tables in the hall, although most are empty now. Most guests are on the dance floor, leaving the tables empty. My ass has remained firmly in this chair ever since Kane sat me down. I don’t know anyone here. He at least knows a handful of the men.

It’s Vince’s uncle’s godson’s wedding. So, no one I fucking know. The only people I do recognize are the few from a time in my life I’m doing my best to forget. I loved how Kane put his arm around me during dinner. He made me feel more welcomed, and more comfortable. But I still couldn’t manage to contribute to the conversation.

Becca and Dom have a newborn, a son. I love babies, but I couldn’t speak up. Elle is pregnant now and she looks so beautiful, but I didn’t even compliment her.

This wedding is just like every other wedding. Only every wedding I’ve ever gone to in the past was for family.

I remember the last wedding I went to with my family. I went with my mother, father, and sister. We were the first table. Naturally. My father always got the first and best of everything. Alec Ivanov, the Pakhan of the Russian mafia, the Bratva. My father was an immigrant in the States when he met my mother. He was there on family business, but elected to stay behind when she got pregnant with my sister.