17
Kam
Alana isSatan’s fucking spawn.
She’s vile, hateful, and cruel for the hell of it. I thought getting out of the Villa would help me escapeher, but her words keep playing over and over again over with every thought I have. I thought being around people in this little town would give me a break from the insanity back at the villa, but I carried most of it with me. I’m too distracted to carry on a simple conversation which only adds a new level of frustration to what I’m feeling. Yet even after everything she’s done and said to me, I’m still not only searching for books she will be interested in so she can settle down and stop riling up the baby.
My baby. It’s going to be mine.
Another thirty minutes go by before I pick up three books that I know Megan wouldn’t read; two have been thoroughly examined, and the other is just a guess. I hope I get this right.
For once, I just want to give her something that’ll shut her up. I don’t want every conversation to be an argument. It’s draining and exhausting.
When I’m outside, I look at my watch, and there are three hours before I have to make her dinner, but I still have a few places to go. I have to restock on groceries and get Alana some more clothes to wear. I don’t want to hate myself for the thoughts that’ll run through my mind if I see her in Megan’s lingerie again.
I make my way down the street, wondering how one woman can drum up so many conflicting emotions. She makes me so nervous my hand's sweat. She knows exactly what to say to make me so angry I can’t concentrate. Despite her nasty attitude, seeing the way she wore Megan’s lingerie gave me sensations I didn’t know I could have towards her. That I shouldn’t have for her, right?
All throughout the night, my mind bounced from how beautiful she looked, standing there barefoot and pregnant with no fear, timidity, or vulnerability. It was sexy, until she opened her mouth.
Alana has no idea what she’s talking about, and she’s the last person whose words should affect me like this, but somehow they're eating away at me. Her accusing me of being obsessive and possessive kept me up, trying to figure out what it is that makes my love look like something other than what it is.
What could she possibly know about love anyway? The woman is insane, and so is the man she married. Whatever was between them was nowhere near as real and solid as what Megan and I have. Alana would never be able to understand the depth of love that would make someone do anything it took for their relationship to stay alive and thriving. And based on the shit in her file, she hasn’t seen a life that’s known any ray of warmth. It’s clear that she’s bitter about Megan finding that for herself, and although she laughed at me when I said it, I know for a fact that it hit something in her. I don’t think it hit her quite as hard as her words punched me, though.
Maybe because she echoed Katie’s words. But still, Katie only said it because she doesn't like Megan anymore. I can see where my method of checking in on her could come off as crossing the line to someone who doesn't understand the drive to be with a person as complicated as Megan. I would say the same if the roles were flipped. I’d come up with exaggerated reasons as to why Katie should break up with boyfriends of hers I didn’t like in the past, so I see where Katie’s coming from.
But Alana, I know she only said it because she’s miserable.
The bottom line is, I’m not obsessive, nor am I possessive.
I just do what it takes to make sure the people I love most are protected.
In a way, I feel bad for Alana. She’s one of those people that’ll never find love because she sabotages herself. Maybe she’s the part of Megan that doesn’t think she deserves happiness. Megan was convinced she wasn’t good enough for me in the beginning, and all of her doubts and worries might just be pushed into Alana.
It makes sense.
Whether I like it or not, I have to see Alana and Veronica as…versions of Megan. It’s difficult when they’re all so vastly different. But focusing on just one of them and trying to act like the others aren’t there has gotten us nowhere.
Maybe I need to reassure them like I reassured Megan. They might disappear if they feel like Megan doesn’t need them anymore. That is why they’re in her head, after all.
I have no idea if this is logical, but I’m willing to try anything at this point.
When I’m done shopping, I pick food up for both of us. Megan normally gets something with chicken on it, so I get Alana beef before I head back to the villa.
Now that I have some kind of an idea on how to approach Alana, this drive out was worth it; I needed to get out of the house and breathe some fresh air. All this shit with Alana has my made mind foggy, and I felt like I was going stir crazy. Riding with the windows down and feeling the warm breeze on my face makes a new hopeful energy run through me.
When I get back to the villa, I’m prepared to face her. I haven’t been in her room since yesterday afternoon. I needed a little time to cool off. I put her snacks and her dinner by the door, as I did with breakfast and lunch today, but now, I’m composed, and I won’t fire back at her the moment she makes some snide remark. What I did yesterday showed weakness, and I can’t let her think that her saying a few crude accusations will run me away.
After tossing her clothes in the washing machine, I set six tacos on a tray for her along with some fries and water before making my way down the hallway to her room. I look down at one of the books I got her sitting on the tray, wondering if she’s even going to read it. I wonder how this nice gesture is going to turn out? Last time I got hot tea to the chest, and a hammer swung on me. Will the book end up in the back of my head this time?
I shouldn’t have gotten the hardback.
I knock on the door, but I don’t get an answer. I knock again, and still nothing. Maybe she’s in the shower.
“Alana!”
Nothing.
I let out a breath. Chances are she’s in the shower, so I unlock the door. I’ll put her food on the nightstand. It’s covered, so it’ll stay hot.