Every Night She Sleepwalked to Him—Until He Pretended No More Chapter 11

Every Night She Sleepwalked to Him—Until He Pretended No More Chapter 11

I hadn’t eaten dinner. I was starving.

Bennett said, “I’ll make you something.”

He made chicken noodle soup. He got distracted while serving it and burned his hand.

I wandered into the kitchen, took his hand, and blew softly on the burn. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.” Bennett lifted me onto the kitchen island. His eyes found mine. “Maren. Look at me.”

“I’m crazy about you. Leave him. Please.”

I stared at him, blank. Still somewhere between sleep and waking.

When I didn’t answer, his eyes darkened. He leaned in and kissed me.

The next morning.

When I woke up, the hair tie was gone again.

My lips stung. I touched them; the skin was split.

Could he have…

Comments appeared. [I’m so done. The side character kissed the MMC again last night.]

[Maren didn’t even touch the soup.]

[Bennett went feral last night.]

[Too bad Maren doesn’t remember any of it.]

What happened last night?

I threw the covers back. My clothes were still on. Nothing had happened.

But when I changed, my neck was covered in hickeys.

I was losing my mind. This couldn’t go on. I needed to get out. A hotel, an apartment, anything.

Camille filed the police report that morning.

During my lunch break, I went to try on gowns for the gala. Camille was already there.

Sted already poked her. Let me help you find one the sad

polet a black satin number elegant safe 4 little conservative

Camile puled a chandagre-colored gown off the rack. Maren, by this one

restared. That’s not really me

“Just by it. Trust me Camile steered me toward the fitting room.

I put it on. The woman in the minor locked softer than I expected Luminous, almost

But the moves acng my collarbone were impossible to miss.

Camile called from outside Waren, are you done? Come out, let me see

I stayed behind the curtain. It doesn’t work. Im changing back.”

“Just once One peek, that’s all I’m asking”

I pressed my hand over my collarbone and stepped out.

Camiles eyes widened “Oh my god. You look stunning

Maren, you’re gorgeous kept stealing locks at you the first time we met.”

Thanks Camile I ducked back into the fitting room, wishing I could melt into the floor

Comments appeared [These two are way too friendly]

Pretty gris always find each other]

[The side character is actually really premy We just assumed Camille was the prettiest because she’s the

FMC1

Camille must have noticed what i was covering. She leaned against the wall outside the fitting room, voice dropping to a conspirational whisper Things with your boyfriend seem pretty passionate

Mr. Ellison is a lucky guy”

I wanted the ground to swallow me whole

Comments drifted past. If Camillie knew Bennett left those hickeys, she’d lose it)

How is Maren not mortified right now?]

The gult was crushing, I hated this disorder. Hated that my body did things I’d never choose while awake. I

couldn’t even look Camille in the eye.

But I still wasn’t sure Bennett and Camille were actually together.

At the coffee shop, they’d been stiff around each other, nothing like a couple.

The truth was, Bennett treated me like I was his. So well that sometimes I forgot I wasn’t.

He’d come home every few days with an armful of flowers. “Picked them up on the way back, he’d say, like it

was nothing.

I’d arrange them around the house without being asked. It felt natural.

The fridge was always overflowing with cold-pressed juices: “gifts from clients,” he claimed. He blended one for me almost every morning. I was honestly sick of them.

When I camped on the couch at night, bingeing whatever show I was hooked on, he’d sit next to me with his laptop. “Catching up on work,” he said. But it felt like he just wanted to be near me.

On weekends, I slept in and stayed home. He turned down every invitation from his friends and stayed too. “Just want to rest,” he’d say.

But he was always there. Every time I came out of my room, he was the first thing I saw.

He’d take me grocery shopping, cook a candlelit dinner, and open wine that probably cost more than my rent. He’d pour me a glass like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He’d leave bath bombs and petals by the tub, things he’d “just grabbed” while we were out.

Bennett didn’t say much. He showed it. Everything he felt, he put into what he did.

If he was really with Camille, he wouldn’t treat her like a stranger.

Among the comments tearing me apart, a few pushed back. [Enough. Can you all stop messing with the side character?]

(Does watching her suffer make you happy?]

[Her disorder is a medical condition. She had no idea what she was doing. You guys caused all of this.]

[Side character, don’t listen to them. You haven’t done anything wrong.]

[I’m dying to spoil the plot right now…]

When I didn’t answer, Camille hesitated. “Maren, there’s something I probably shouldn’t tell you…

My pulse jumped. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “Never mind. I should wait until everything’s sorted out.”

“Okay.” I let it go.

Tonight was about the gala. Camille’s problem came first; everything else could wait.