Tryst Six Venom by Penelope Douglas

what I want, and what’s right. What am I searching for?
“I don’t want to be like her,” I whisper.
“I don’t think she wanted to be like her either.”
I close my eyes. I know. I know children weren’t her problem. Her
husband dying wasn’t her problem. Her problems were always there.
And she hated it as much as we did.
Maybe killing herself was mercy for our family. To not put us through
more. To not give my brother another mouth to feed.
Or maybe she did what she’d wanted to do all along. She left.
I want to leave. But I don’t want to leave them behind. I want the people
who love me to miss me when I’m gone.
“I don’t hate you.” Her murmur is barely audible.
I look up, listening.
“I think about you all the time,” she almost mouths.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
She holds the pizza, all of her hair loose and spilling over her shoulder,
and she’s so still, her gaze fixed on the food in her hands. “Was there ever
anything you liked about me?”
The tips of my fingers hum, and I can’t help my eyes trailing over her
mouth. She was warm when I kissed her. Like how good coffee tastes on a
rainy morning.
I’d like to pull her into the bathroom and into my arms, and kiss her in the
shower. I’d like to see her smile.
Her eyes meet mine, her fingers move, and I stop breathing, wanting to
hold her hand.
I inch closer, she rises to her knees and leans over, her hand snaking
inside my thigh and her mouth coming in.
But then the door bursts open and someone sing-songs, “Hey!”
Clay rears back, looking away as Krisjen and Amy saunter into the room,
and I ball my fists, slamming my back into the wall.
Goddammit.
“You’re alive!” Amy giggles, carrying containers of food Coach probably
got for us, not thinking we’d order room service. “That’s a relief.” Then she
looks around, frowning. “Only one broken lamp? Y’all are disappointing.”
“I thought you guys were gone all night,” Clay questions.
I hold back my smile at the annoyance in her voice. Just get them out of
here, Clay. Please.