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The Trip

Author: Siwa Rose
last update Last Updated: 2024-09-26 06:11:01

Imogene Scott

Three weeks later…

I fold the last dress and tuck it into my suitcase, but my hands linger over the zipper. My stomach churns. It's just one week, I tell myself, pressing down the thoughts that keep rising. A whole week without Lily. I sigh and zip the suitcase shut.

I walk over to the dresser, grabbing my phone and charger. The room feels heavy, like it's waiting for me to change my mind. It feels wrong leaving Lily, even if it’s just for a week.

“What if she misses us?” I whisper to myself, though I know she’s in good hands. Breonna loves her, and Lily adores Breonna, but still…

The doorbell rings, cutting through my thoughts. My heart does this strange little twist, and I force myself to breathe. It’s Breonna. She’s here.

I head to the door, opening it to see her standing there with a bright smile. “Hey, you ready?” she asks, stepping inside with a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Yeah… almost,” I say, stepping aside to let her in.

She immediately picks up on my
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  • He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back   Situationship

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  • He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back   Don’t Make Things Worse

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Latest chapter

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  • He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back   Uncovering More

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  • He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back   Light

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  • He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back   Frustrated

    Damien Shaw “Please, keep the investigation discreet for now,” I say firmly, meeting Gerald’s gaze. My voice is steady, but my insides churn. Gerald nods and gathers his notes before leaving my office. The door clicks shut and I sink into my seat, pinching the bridge of my nose as my temples throb. Five meetings, all back-to-back in one morning. Each one is a battlefield of strategy, damage control, and trying to piece together what the hell is happening with this damn leak. My head feels like it’s about to split open, and the office suddenly seems unbearably warm. I loosen my tie and lean back, closing my eyes for a brief moment. I need just a second—one second to breathe— My phone vibrates against the desk, shattering the silence. I grab it immediately, hoping it’s Gerald with an update, but instead, I see Imogene’s name. It’s a text: Imogene: "I don’t think therapy is good for me."My stomach twists. Therapy. The session. What happened? My thumb hovers over her nam

  • He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back   Fake Foundation

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  • He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back   The Session

    Imogene Scott I sit down in the tufted chair opposite Dr Annie Eddie and let out a sigh. This is my first therapy session with her and I’m a little nervous. I’m only here because of Damien. Because I want to be better for him, for Lily and the twins. I tell her a few things about my life I’m comfortable telling anyone and she tells me in order to get to what’s underneath those emotions, what’s driving it, we need to unpack my life in a more comprehensive way.“Okay…” I’m hesitant. What will this entail? I hate the uncertainty.“And please, address me as Annie.” I nod. “Sure.”“Now, I want to understand more about Little Imogene,” she says tenderly. “I understand your mother died of cancer when you were just ten.”Always with the childhood, these therapists. I’ve seen enough movies and TV shows to know that this is the classic therapeutic scapegoat. Some shit happenedin your childhood, it messed you up, that’s why you are the way you are.But not me. I didn’t have an alcoholic d

  • He Hurt Me, Now He Wants Me Back   Perfect Is Imperfect

    Damien Shaw The kitchen smells like butter and eggs as I stand by the stove, flipping the omelette in the pan. The sizzle fills the air, and I catch the faintest scent of parsley—Lily insists she hates green things, but I sneak them in for her anyway. I glance at the clock above the sink. It’s later than I thought. Imogene is still upstairs with the doctor. I hope that goes smoothly, but something tells me it won’t. “Mummy says eggs make you strong like Superman!” Lily’s voice cuts through my thoughts as she rushes into the kitchen.“Is it ready, Daddy?” she asks.She’s peering up at me with those wide, curious eyes that make me feel like I’m doing something right in this whole parenting thing. “Just in time,” I say.I slide the omelette onto a small plate, cut it into smaller pieces, then hand it to her. “Thank you!” she chirps before scampering into the living room. I follow her with my eyes as she climbs onto the couch, settling in with her plate. A faint movement ca

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