CHAPTER 9
**ZION**
I zip up my pants, tuck in my shirt, and plop down on the bed. Winter! She’s stuck in my head like a bad song on repeat, invading every corner of my thoughts and feelings. Just hearing her name feels like a punch to the gut. Her memory haunts me like a relentless ghost, its grip tightening with each passing day. Instead of getting better, time has just made everything hurt more. Seeing her in the kitchen that night was like pouring salt in an open wound, each memory flaring up with fresh anger and pain. Just the sight of her made my blood boil, and then I found out the next day that she’d moved in.
Last night, I tried to drown her out with alcohol, but she still haunted my thoughts. When I stumbled home, there she was, acting the part of a caring caretaker, guiding me to my room as if she genuinely gave a damn. It was all such a charade, and I could see right through her pretence. Her concern was as fake as the smile she wore.
But when she came so close, the proximity was unbearable. The scent of her perfume, the softness of her touch—it was too much. It made me want to push her away, to shut out the confusion and unwanted feelings she stirred within me.
There was a time when I would’ve done anything for her. Back then, Winter didn’t see me like the other kids did. While they looked at me like some kind of royalty, eager to befriend me because their parents wanted them to cosy up to the only child of Arthur Royal, Winter seemed different. She wanted to be my friend, my real friend, or at least that’s what I believed.
I first met Winter when I was 12, at one of the lavish office parties my father threw for his employees. Her dad worked at Royal Enterprises as my father’s secretary. Among the sea of stiff adults in suits, Winter was the only other kid my age. She stood out like a beacon, her easy smile and bright blue eyes cutting through the monotony.
We clicked instantly, both of us grateful for the distraction from the formalities. We ended up in a corner, huddled together over a plate of chocolate pastries. Winter's laughter was infectious, and for the first time, those parties didn’t seem so boring.
“I can eat more of these than you,” she challenged, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Oh, you’re on,” I replied, grinning as I picked up another pastry.
As we continued our impromptu contest, we talked about everything and nothing. She told me about her favourite books and how she wanted to be an astronaut one day. I shared my dreams of travelling the world and inheriting my father’s company.
“You know, these parties are always so dull,” she said, licking chocolate from her fingers. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” I admitted, feeling a strange warmth in my chest.
"I don't usually come to these parties, but I'm really glad I did today.".”
“Well, now you’ve got me to keep you company,” she said with a playful wink.
For the rest of the night, we were inseparable. Winter made the party bearable, even fun. Little did I know, that night would be the beginning of something that would shape my life in ways I couldn’t have imagined.
Back then, the thought of hurting her never crossed my mind. I cherished our friendship. But now, dark thoughts consumed me, and the betrayal lingered like a wound that wouldn’t heal.
Another memory from when we were kids flashes before my eyes, drawing me back in time. We were walking down the street toward our bus stop, the sun casting long shadows on the pavement.
"Jake said that he kissed Sierra," I announced, kicking a pebble down the road.
Winter shrugged, her blond ponytail bouncing. "So? Kissing is weird."
It was weird, but I wanted to do it, especially with her. Unlike the other girls in school, she wouldn’t laugh at me if I messed up or did something stupid. We were friends, and she always had my back.
“What would you say if I wanted to kiss you?” I asked nervously, my heart pounding so hard I was sure she could hear it. My palms were sweaty, and I could feel my face heating up. The question hung in the air, and I held my breath, waiting for her response.
Her blue eyes widened, and she stopped mid-step before shoving me in the shoulder. Her small fists were curled, a mix of surprise and playful anger in her gaze. She was cute when she was mad.
"I would tell you to go away because kissing is gross, and I’d rather eat a worm than kiss you," she declared with a huff.
Grinning, I tugged on her ponytail. "Good, I wouldn’t kiss you either."
She pouted, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Good, because I wouldn’t let you."
We laughed, the sound echoing down the empty street. For a moment, we were just two kids, unburdened by the weight of the world. I smile faintly at the memory, the innocence of it all, and the bitter contrast to the present. Those days felt like a lifetime ago, and the distance between who we were and who we’ve become seems insurmountable.
I can’t help but smile faintly at the memory. That was before everything changed before she became a liar who turned my world upside down. The sting of her betrayal, the web of lies, and the loss of our friendship all weigh heavily on my heart. Sometimes I can almost forget the pain, but then she walks in with that smile, acting like she’s done nothing wrong. Like she hasn’t shattered my family and wrecked my life.
And now, with Mom arranging this so-called fuc*ing family breakfast, it feels like some twisted joke. Pretending everything is normal, when nothing could be further from the truth, was almost too much to bear.
Seeing her in my house, living under my roof, is a constant reminder of the chaos she’s brought into my life. Her dad weaselled his way into my mother’s life, and now Winter is here too, playing the part of the innocent stepsister. But I know better. I’ll never forget what she did, and I’ll make sure she regrets ever stepping foot into my world.
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