Page 88 of Reverie

I want to say that we’ve all fallen into a routine, if for no other reason than to stave off boredom and anxiety about The Legion’s next moves. But the reality is that’s only true for some of us.

For others, anxiety is a constant companion.

Specifically for Hunter.

At first, he seemed to settle into a sense of resignation. Things are still fucked, but he seemed to accept things as they were. But then, a few days after Ella decided to join The Resistance’s efforts to take down The Architect, he had a meeting with Misha that turned into another screaming match, and all of Hunter’s calm resolve vanished.

Every night, I watch him fall into a fitful sleep that never lasts too long. In the mornings, he wakes with dark circles under his eyes and a sharp attitude.

August and I see him around, but whenever he’s with us, he’s distant.

A few days ago, I tried to initiate sex with him, reaching across the bed and grasping his cock in the way that I’ve learned that he loves. He hadn’t tried anything since our tryst in Misha’s kitchen. I thought his hesitation was because my shoulder was still tender. But now, the wound is nearly healed, and the scars have started to soften.

It barely hurts anymore.

But before I could get two strokes in, he grabbed my wrist more painfully than he’d ever touched me, jumped out of the bed, and ran into the closet.

After entirely too much time in there, he re-emerged fully dressed and left the room in the middle of the night.

I didn’t see him again until well into the following day, and he still hasn’t talked to me beyond general inquiries and questions about the baby.

Damn him. Damn him for doing this to us again.

So things are tense with Hunter, and they’re tense with Veronica too.

Ever since our showdown in my bathroom, she’s been absent. Not that she’s been purposely avoiding me, but more like whenever we’re in the same room, she’s quiet and lost in her thoughts. The only thing that brings her out of her shell is when Summer demands her attention.

It’s rare these days for us to act normal around each other, but can I really expect things to be normal?

Things are way,wayabnormal right now.

Veronica faces me with her hand on the doorknob to my room. She wears the mask that I’ve seen her don for other people but never for me. It’s the delicate smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes—one she perfected over her years of schooling. Her eyebrows are in a neutral position, and the contraction of hercheek muscles that crinkle her eyes in a mockery of joy causes dread to fill me.

She’s hurting.

She’s lying.

And I don’t know what to do about it.

I know that Veronica hates my decisions. She hates the ones I’m making now and the ones that I’ve made up until today, but I can’t make myself regret anything.

“Coming,” I say, my voice quiet.

Veronica waits for me while I throw on a pair of yoga pants under a loose T-shirt and bralette. Clothes have been a sensory nightmare for me lately. For the first several days of my recovery, the pain pills caused me to be vaguely itchy, in addition to the hormones surging through my body, causing everything to be sensitive.

I’m almost five months along now. My breasts are larger, and my questionable pooch is now a small but undeniable baby bump. I run an absent-minded hand over my stomach and say the silent prayer I’ve recited every day since learning of the new life inside me.

Let us make it through this alive.

When we reach the dining hall, I’m surprised by how many people are in here, and even more surprised by some of the familiar faces in the room.

To one side near the head of the table, Misha, Amelia, and Luna stand in a loose semi-circle, talking amongst themselves.

In another corner, Max chats with a woman I don’t recognize, and Ella stands near Misha’s group, hovering near Amelia but not interacting with her.

Seated at the middle of the long table—a table that rivals the size of the one in the great hall back home—are Jared and Rio. They both look in good health. I haven’t seen the pair except in passing while roaming the halls, and we haven’t spoken.Each time I’ve run into them, they’ve been off to tend to some important detail related to The Legion.

I get it.