#Chapter 65: The Music Box

Ella The days blurred together after Alexander returned from his trip. I spent most of my time in bed, sleeping fitfully or staring out the window at the garden below. The bandage on my head had been replaced with a smaller one, but the headaches were still pretty persistent. Alexander barely spoke to me anymore. He would come to bed late, long after I’d pretended to fall asleep, and he would leave early in the morning before I woke up. When we did cross paths, we would just exchange angry glares and then go our separate ways. It was better this way. Easier. I didn’t have to pretend anymore that there might be something between us. Didn’t have to wonder if those moments in the hospital or the way he’d looked at me for those brief seconds meant anything. Gabriel had made it crystal clear what Alexander really thought of me: weak, manipulative, pathetic. He didn’t care if I died. He only cared about himself. I hated him. The cherry blossom brace