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Back The Society Trilogy Save as PDF
Chapters (136)
  1. Cover
  2. About This Book
  3. Requiem of the Soul
  4. About This Book
  5. Prologue
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. Reparation of Sin
  41. About This Book
  42. 1
  43. 2
  44. 3
  45. 4
  46. 5
  47. 6
  48. 7
  49. 8
  50. 9
  51. 10
  52. 11
  53. 12
  54. 13
  55. 14
  56. 15
  57. 16
  58. 17
  59. 18
  60. 19
  61. 20
  62. 21
  63. 22
  64. 23
  65. 24
  66. 25
  67. 26
  68. 27
  69. 28
  70. 29
  71. 30
  72. 31
  73. 32
  74. 33
  75. 34
  76. 35
  77. 36
  78. 37
  79. 38
  80. 39
  81. 40
  82. 41
  83. Resurrection of the Heart
  84. About This Book
  85. 1
  86. 2
  87. 3
  88. 4
  89. 5
  90. 6
  91. 7
  92. 8
  93. 9
  94. 10
  95. 11
  96. 12
  97. 13
  98. 14
  99. 15
  100. 16
  101. 17
  102. 18
  103. 19
  104. 20
  105. 21
  106. 22
  107. 23
  108. 24
  109. 25
  110. 26
  111. 27
  112. 28
  113. 29
  114. 30
  115. 31
  116. 32
  117. 33
  118. 34
  119. 35
  120. 36
  121. 37
  122. 38
  123. 39
  124. 40
  125. 41
  126. 42
  127. 43
  128. 44
  129. 45
  130. Epilogue
  131. Want More of The Society?
  132. Also by Natasha Knight
  133. Also by A. Zavarelli
  134. About A. Zavarelli
  135. About Natasha Knight
  136. Thank you!

My stomach sinks, and I walk out the door.

28

Ivy

I clean up in the bathroom attached to the study, then return to the now empty room and look around. I’m pretty sure that was Marco on the line, and I know I heard Mercedes’s name. It must be big given the urgency with which Santiago ran out of here.

It feels strange being in here without him. Feels like I’m not supposed to be here. And I guess I’m not. He did tell me to go to bed. And I will in a few minutes.

I close the door he’d left open and turn back to the large, ornate desk and the chair he’d been sitting in when I came in here. I think about how he looked, and again, there’s that feeling inside my chest. That tightness. A constriction.

I put a hand to my stomach.

Is it true that I could be pregnant? That I could get pregnant now? I look for a calendar on his desk. I don’t even know what day it is. Have I really been here for three months?

Taking a seat in his plush leather chair, I roll myself closer to the desk. I don’t see a calendar, and it feels wrong to open his drawers to search for one. A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but now, it doesn’t feel right.

The bottle of scotch is still somehow on top of the desk after our lovemaking. I cork it, and I notice the book we knocked off the desk. I bend to pick it up and set it on the desk, the pencil marking his place still inside.

I glance at the door and bite my lip as I consider. It’s not an invasion of privacy really. Not if I let it fall open to the page he’d been looking at. The pencil is right there.

I’m not sure what I expect to find, but it’s not this.

On the page is an unfinished sketch, the lead of the pencil worn down. It’s his book. His sketches. I hadn’t realized it when I’d seen it briefly that night so long ago that it feels like another lifetime. On the page are two lovers in profile, and although they’re not close to finished, I know it’s us. I know it from the skull side of the face that I see.

My face is less clear. Mostly lines and shadows and the fingers of my hand are just grazing his cheek. There’s something hopeless about this image, and it matches what I saw on his face when I first walked in here. Something sad and too broken.

And I know this is an invasion. I know I should close the book and leave his private thoughts private. But I can’t.