Divided (Unguarded #2) - Ivy Stone Page 0,39

eat. I’m not ready to face the world yet. My skull thumps and I rub a hand across my forehead, wishing away the headache that’s been torturous for days. Picking up a piece of fruit off the plate, I pop it in my mouth and head back to my bed where I can curl up and sleep through the detoxing. On the way, my gaze lingers on the few personal items coloring the otherwise boring spotless room of off-whites and beige. I woke a few days ago more lucid, in control. I knew where I was. I remembered why. But the days before were a blurred mess. The magazines, candy bars and clothes caught my attention first when I woke. I thought maybe Lindsey had been here and brought some of her clothes up for me, but when I sifted through the pieces of material, I knew they weren’t from her. Linds has class. I wear sass. She hadn’t bought me cut-offs, tanks, ripped jeans and combat boots.

“Hey.”

I turn to the door and my heart stammers.

“Hey,” I greet Roamyn standing with his hands in the pockets of low hanging jeans. He looks around unsure, and I realize why. The nurses had filled me in about the past few days that are still blank in my mind.

“It’s okay. I’m feeling a bit better today. I’m not going to lose it on you again.”

He blows out a breath, relief clear in his eyes.

“Come in. Have a seat.” I pat beside me on the bed and it dips when Roam sits down. His hand grazes mine and I shift over putting space between us.

“How are you doing?” he asks, his expression agonizing. So painful it hurts to imagine what condition I must have been in for him to be so worried.

I breathe in, letting the air fill my lungs with a new kind of hope. Because as I look around, as I embrace how my body feels right now, I’m still alive. Scars, inside and out, may never fade. But the aches and pains will subside. Surface wounds will heal and it’s all because of him. I hate what he did and how I came to be here. But I can’t ignore the pressure lifting from my soul the moment I woke knowing I’d survived my worst days. Nothing could be worse than what I’d just endured, and I had Roamyn to thank for it. It was an unexplainable pain like I was stuck in limbo. My body ripping in half while fate decided if was going to live or die. I’ve been blessed with another chance at life. I won’t ever take it for granted again.

“I think I’m doing all right. Considering…” my voice fades as I lower my face, hiding the embarrassment blushing my cheeks. “The… um, the doctor said everyone reacts differently with detoxing, and I don’t really remember much about the first few days but I do know I acted like a brat to you and I shouldn’t have.”

His hand brushes my thigh. “Hey. Don’t apologize. Not for what you went through to get to now. You shouldn’t be sorry for it. A lot of people don’t come out the other side of what you’ve been through. You’ve done good, babe.” He sounds so reassuring, his tone serious but uplifting. I almost believe it.

“Okay.” I nod, tucking my loose hair behind my ear.

Roamyn scratches his head and his expression changes. “Ali there’s something I want to tell you. It might not make up for the hurt I’ve caused you now, or those years ago the night you left my apartment, but it might help you understand why I’ve done what I have.”

“Okay.” Uncertainty laces my tone. My brows pinch together.

Roamyn shifts his vacant gaze to the window on the opposite wall to my bed. “Growing up, I only had my mom and grandma. I never knew my dad and to this day, I still don’t know who he is. When I was five years old, my mom was murdered right in front of me.”

I gasp at his confession.

“After that, my grandma took me away from the city. We moved to California because it was pretty much as far away from this place as we could get. I saw a lot of doctors because I couldn’t remember shit. They told me I had repressed memories and may never remember what happened before, during, or even after Mom’s murder. When I was sixteen, my first memory came back. I remembered the

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