Lyla
I don't remember when I'd finally gotten off Rashid's floor or walked out of his room, but when I finally blinked and came to again, I was heading down the stairway to the foyer.
I could vaguely recognize I was hungry—maybe the reason why I'd finally started moving again. How many hours had passed by me while I sobbed on his floor, I had no idea. I half hoped he'd come in and happen upon me, distraught over seeing me lay in the fetal position and carry me to his bed, where he'd lay with me for the rest of the day, comforting me.
Obviously, my wishful thinking hadn't happened, and I'd ended up feeling the shame of taking up space in his room when I know I shouldn't've been. Honestly, I was probably lucky no one else had caught me in there instead.
When I reached the bottom of the s
