I’ve been trying to get into the rhythm of writing and editing I had before shit hit the fan (btw, that is a disgusting image). And I haven’t been entirely successful buuuuut I am finally getting close to finishing the first round of editing.
I wanted to share a little sneaky excerpt but I’m omitting the names and I’m not telling where in the story it fits so that if you do decide to delight me with reading the book once it comes out, I won’t spoil a single detail about it to you. Let me know what you think!
They injected fear into my blood and I felt it coursing through me. Surrounded by darkness and muffled street sounds, I stared at the ceiling, my body willing me to close my eyes, my mind too wired to oblige. In flashes, I went through my relationship with him, checking for feelings.
They were right. I was attached. I couldn’t imagine a good day where I wouldn’t start or finish the day without talking to him, and a bad day would be turned into worse if I didn’t get to hear or see him.
How had this happened? When?
I didn’t need this, I didn’t want it. I had barely ended my relationship, my damn marriage, had yet to deal with it all and process it, finalize it. My heart was in bandages, my head in shambles. How did I not see this coming? Why did it take my younger brothers, who had been avoiding any actual feelings like the bubonic plague, to point it out for me? And now that they had pointed it out for me, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was right in front of me, staring me down in obnoxious neon lights.
I had feelings for him. I had freaking feelings for him.
My heart raced, my hair stuck to the back of my neck and forehead, my stomach felt like it was attacked by the meanest, spiciest curry. Panic swallowed my whole body.
I had to put a stop to it. I wasn’t in it too deeply; I could reverse the effects. I could. I would.
I made a mental list of what I needed to change. At the top of it was putting a stop to the daily communication between us. I had to detach myself from him and focus on me, myself, and I. No feelings, no romance was good for me right now. Any strings attached had to be cut with a chainsaw.