CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

**OLIVER**
My eyes fluttered open and I groaned as the bright light hit my eyes. I blinked against the bright rays of the sun pouring in from the open window. I sat up on the bed and held my head in my hands as the pounding in the back of my skull intensified. I looked down at my semi naked state, and wiggled my toes despite the intense weakness I felt in my legs. I closed my eyes and forced myself to remember the events of the previous night. 
That proved to be a mistake. 
I swore loudly as the images came pouring in. Images of I and Carrie kissing, images of I and Carrie fucking, images of her on top of me, riding me with careless abandon. Images of the way she had moaned my name as her orgasms hit her. Images of my toes curling in intense pleasure as her mouth had explored my nether regions and brought me to orgasm more than once. 
I look to my side, noticing for the first time since I awake that she wasn’t in bed with me. I wondered where she was, and what she was doing. A part of me wanted her back in my bed and back in my arms, for us to lock ourselves in this room and never come up for air, even though I knew that what we had done was wrong. Even though I was aware that last night should never have happened. We should have never crossed the line. 
I groaned as guilt overcame me. I sighed as the cold, prying hands of guilt wrapped around my heart and squeezed. What had I done? Why had I let it happen? What was going to happen moving forward? Too many questions and not enough answer. I felt so stupid, I had let myself fall into her trap, I had let myself be a victim, and the results were set in stone. 
I felt stupid. I felt used. How could I have been so dumb? So dumb to think that Carrie had changed? That she was no longer the vixen that I had been introduced to? That the goddess would never go back on her word and that she would never take a negative for a response. But even as I sat there and blamed Carrie, I knew I had to carry my share of the blame. I should have been more careful, I should have been more alert, j should have known that something like this would happen. I should have known better. 
My ears strain as I hear her humming a happy tune downstairs as she moved around the kitchen, and I stared at the overhead clock, groaning at how late in the day it was. My muscles tensed and I wrung my fingers together as I heard Carrie climb up the stairs, the steps creaking under her weight. 
The door to my bedroom opened and Carrie sauntered in, her eyes bright and glory, and dressed in my tee shirt from the previous night. She had on a wide and satisfied smile on her face, a smile that was no doubt my doing, a smile that’s as going to cost my everything that I loved, a smile that I was beginning to regret. 
I barely spared her a glance as she sauntered across the room with a confidence that only made my irritation grow. Her every step felt calculated, deliberate, as though she knew exactly how much her presence grated on me. Without hesitation, she settled next to me on the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. She positioned herself uncomfortably close, her shoulder brushing against mine, the contact sending an unwelcome prickle down my spine.
I shifted away, the movement subtle, careful not to alert her to my intention. I didn’t want to start a conversation or draw her attention, not when I was already at my limit. But just as I began to breathe easier, she moved even closer, her proximity suffocating. Her persistence elicited an involuntary groan from me, one I couldn’t hold back.
For once, why couldn’t she take the hint? Why couldn’t she recognize the clear, unspoken signals that begged for space? Her obliviousness—or was it purposeful ignorance?—only added fuel to my growing frustration. I could feel her eyes on me, waiting for a reaction, feeding off the tension in the air. The bed suddenly felt too small, the room too confined, and I fought the urge to snap at her. If she wasn’t going to back off, how long could I keep my temper in check? 
“Did you miss me, darling?” She cooed in my ear, and leaned in to suck my ear lobe into her mouth, and then dip her tongue into my ear. 
My jaw clenched as disgust flooded through me. I gently pushed her away from me, and when she was looking away, I wiped her saliva away from my ear. That didn’t derail her though, she was still as chirpy as when she had walked in to my room. A little too chirpy for comfort. 
I bite down on my tongue as she intertwined her hand with mine and leaned her head on my shoulder, her gaze dreamy as she continued to hun her song. I wished I could be as relaxed as her, without a clue in the fucking world. But I couldn’t, rather I was saddled with the weight of our encounter. 
Matter of fact, I had been saddled with it since the moment I met her. 
Carrie sighed heavily. “I enjoyed last night terribly.”
I simply nodded  and said nothing. I mean, what’s supposed to be the suitable response to that?
Carrie moved away from me and stared intently at my face. I sighed heavily and refused to meet her gaze, allowing her to look her fill. She nodded slowly as her eyes roved my form, and then folded her hands across her chest, forcing her breasts upwards. 
“What’s the problem, Oliver?” She asked, her tone sharp.
I shook my head, not wanting to go into the details of something, especially when I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. “Why would you think I have a problem?” I countered. 
“You’re a little too quiet. It’s almost as though you’re unhappy to be here with me.”
Close enough. But how do I say such directly without hurting her feelings? How Dino say it without making out to be that I had used her?
“If you perceive me to be unhappy, then why are you still here, Carrie?” I asked, my voice cold and unyielding. 
Carrie balked at my question, and I swore under my breath as I saw the hurt in her eyes. I hadn’t meant it to come out the way it did, or maybe I did? At that point, I was past caring. I watched as Carrie bit down in her lip and shook her head. She moved further away from me, and looked at me as though I was some sort of alien creature that had just been found. 
I sighed heavily, and forced a smile to my lips. “I’m fine, Carrie. Is that better?”
I prayed and hoped that my response was enough to pacify her, but it was seemingly impossible. She smiled and closed the distance between us and settled herself into my lap, wrapping her hands around my neck. I groaned and resisted the urge to throw her off of me. That resolve was thrown out the window the moment she leaned in and tried to kiss me. I moved away from her reach and gently lifted her from my lap and deposited her gently on the bed. 
“You had no problem being buried inside me last night and now you won’t even kiss me?” She asked, exasperated. 
I shrugged. “I don’t want to kiss you.”
Carrie scoffed and rolled her eyes. “What the fuck are you even talking about?” She asked. “Again, you had no problem with doing that last night!”
“Well, last night shouldn’t have happened either!”
I swore loudly, the curse slipping from my lips before I could stop it, as Carrie’s face fell and her eyes brimmed with tears. The sight of her like that—so vulnerable, so fragile—hit me like a punch to the gut, but I couldn’t bring myself to comfort her. Guilt gnawed at my insides, clawing at the walls of my chest, yet anger and frustration refused to release their grip on me. I felt trapped in the storm of my own emotions, unable to find solid ground.
My head tilted back instinctively, my eyes locking onto the ceiling as though it held the answers I so desperately sought. Maybe, just maybe, if I stared hard enough, some divine intervention would occur. Something, anything, to break the unbearable tension that was suffocating me. But no such miracle came. The silence between us stretched unbearably thin, taut as a string about to snap, and I couldn’t escape the weight of her gaze burning into me. Her tears shimmered, threatening to fall, each one a silent accusation that made my stomach churn.
“What…what do you mean?” Carrie asked, her voice shaky. 
I ran my hand through my hair and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry…”
The air in the room felt heavy, oppressive, pressing down on me like a physical weight. It was the kind of suffocating torture I couldn’t escape, no matter how hard I tried to detach myself. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I wrestled with the impossible mix of emotions swirling inside me—regret, shame, resentment, and a desperate longing to make things right, even though I knew I couldn’t. 
“Surely, you didn’t mean that…”
I nodded. “Yes, Carrie, I did. This should have never happened. I should have been stronger, I should not have let it happen. Matter of fact, I should have refused your hand of friendship. I should have known this was how it would end up.”
“What do you mean? Last night was magical! We had a very real connection—“
“Carrie…”
“A very strong connection. You want to throw all that away?”
“I promise you, Carrie, there was no connection. It was all in your head.”
“Our bodies were so in sync—“
“It was a mistake.”
“We moved like we were joined by the gods themselves…”
“It was a mistake. I’m in love with a man, your cousin, Gabriel. Last night was a mistake, it should have never happened.”
I didn’t care how many times it took me to repeat it, as long as it managed to stick to her brain, it would be worth it. But the blank look in her eyes, the tears streaming down her cheeks told me that it didn’t quite stick, that she was still in denial. 
“I’m really sorry, Carrie,” I said. “I feel like I might have led you on, and I swear that it wasn’t my intention.”
I watched as she rose to her feet, anger burning in her eyes, and slowly got dressed in her clothes from last night, discarding my tee shirt that she had come into my room with. I watched her as she walked to the door slowly, and just as she turned the knob, she turned to me, hate and anger in her eyes. 
“You will regret this, Oliver,” she said, her voice icy. “I promise that I would make sure of it.”
I felt shivers run up my spine at her words, but I brushed it off. I just needed her out of the room.