Amara’s pov
He was my stalker and my supposed boyfriend at the same time. He deceived me and toyed with my mind, played with me. I felt stupid, I wanted to claw at my skin remembering my parent's warnings and how I threw myself at the enemy, romancing him and building castles in the air, and at the end I got played.
I couldn't cry, nor could I muster enough strength to swing a punch because of the shock that traveled through me and I couldn't stop it when my guts engineered themselves and churned against my will.
My dinner was thrown out, my insides cramping with drops of tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as I puked soiling my shoes, outfit, and Orian's expensive-looking apparel.
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I sitting on a boulder picking at the old fabric of the awful black dress I now wore. I
