9789180077958 by Smakprov Media AB

A NOVEL WRITTEN BY

THE MOST PERFECTLY IMPERFECT CREATION ANNA ENVALL

AUTHOR’S NOTE

All rights are reserved by the author. This book is a complete work of fiction. All names, places and incidents are all the products of the author’s imagination. All and any resemblance are coincidental. The author would like to warn readers that this is, in some cases, a dark and explicit novel. There are scenes which does include violence, domestic abuse, and explicit sexual content. This novel is a reflection on the form of toxic relationships several individuals in our world are in, but the author does not, in any way, condone this form of behaviour. This is not simply a happy fairy-tale. And if you are in a situation in which you don’t feel safe, there are ways to get help. Please research organizations to which you can turn to in your specific country. Stay safe.

Dedication To all who believe in me. Without you, I would be lost.

When you love someone, you will give them everything. Every part of your mind and every part of your being. And if they love you too, expect them to do the same. This is our human desire. To have and to be someone’s everything. A person on which you can rely. Trust. However, love is not a straight line.

THE MOST PERFECTLY IMPERFECT CREATION

PROLOGUE

He’s angry again. Fourth time this week and it’s only Friday. I can hear the pounding in my ears and feel the tears streaming down my face as I sit on the cold bathroom floor. Closing my eyes tight, I cover my ears in a feeble attempt of drowning out reality. And then suddenly, the sound of furious fists against the bathroom door stops. In the few seconds of nothingness, I can’t think about anything else besides a racing heart and the chill of cold tiles beneath my feet. I hate this. I really, really hate this I’m paralyzed by fear but at the same time, I’m numb. “Lily, please open the door” I don’t answer. I can hear him pressing his forehead against the door as he pleads.

PROLOGUE

My guilt kicks in. Am I overreacting? “Please honey. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it and it won’t happen again. Please. Open the door” His voice sounds gentle and begging but I can still feel the burning on my cheek from where he struck me. I look at the door and quietly push myself off the floor... Bang. He slams his fists on the door again. Bang. Bang. Bang. “Lily!” “Open the door!” “Open the fucking door!” I jump as I can hear the hatred in his voice and the tears start to roll down my cheeks again. He keeps banging harder and harder on the door and I cover my ears to block him out.

THE MOST PERFECTLY IMPERFECT CREATION

CHAPTER ONE Her

I wake with a jolt. Panting and sweating, I sit up and run my hands through my hair. I can feel paralyzing panic and anxiety slowly leaving my chest. I scan around my undecorated bedroom. Darkness from the night has yet to disappear. A few moving boxes still hiding in the corner of the room. Even though it’s been months since I moved in, I hadn’t been able to muster up the strength to deal with it yet. It has been constant chaos in my head which has made it hard to concentrate on superfluous things. I pick up my phone and see that it's still early. I close my eyes and sigh. I know I will not be able to fall back asleep and if I manage to, will most likely continue to be harassed by the same nightmare night after night. Instead, I

CHAPTER ONE

decided to put on ´Yellow´ by Myles Cameron and start getting ready for the day. Barefoot on the wooden floor, I make my way into the bathroom. I jump in the shower for a good twenty minutes to rinse off the anxiety brought on by the darkness of the night. Towelling off my blond mop I do a quick mirror check. That was a big mistake. I really do look like absolute crap. I don’t usually wear much makeup, but weeks of recurring nightmares have undoubtedly taken its toll. The dark circles underneath my blue eyes are next to purple so concealer is an absolute must if I don’t want to go for the “dead zombie” aesthetic. After adding a bit of blush to my waxen cheeks, I push the hair from my face and examine myself once again. It could be worse. It will have to do. Stepping back into my bedroom, I go over to my closet and settle for a white tank top and a flowy shirt. I pour myself a cup of steaming hot coffee before sitting down on the sofa to read for a little while before it’s time to go to work. I’ve always loved reading and spent most of my teen years with my stuck nose deep in a book. I’m not saying that I was some loner that spent all her time studying instead of going to parties, but I love the way a good book can transport you to another time. Put yourself into another’s life and make you forget about your own,

THE MOST PERFECTLY IMPERFECT CREATION

for even just a second. And for me, every escape possible has been indisputably welcomed the last few years. “Shit!” I gasp. I looked at my phone again and saw that the time is already 7:25. I quickly grab my purse off the kitchen counter, jacket and keys to then rush out the front door. It usually takes around thirty minutes to drive to the flower shop I work at but being the control freak I am, I like to be there a couple of minutes early. As I roll into the parking lot, I notice that my co-worker and friend Jessie, the only friend I’ve really made sense moving here actually, coming out of the car next to mine. I give him a big smile before opening the car door. I really like Jessie. He’s the kind of guy that would go out of his way to make everyone else happy. Regardless of how it affects him. A classic Pisces if you believe in that stuff. “Morning Lily!” His blond wavy hair slightly covers his right eye before he pushes it back as he looks at me. Even from this far away you can clearly see a twinkle in his eye. “Good morning, Jessie! How are you?” “Well, I haven't had my morning coffee yet and no one has gotten hurt, so I'd dare to say, pretty good.”

CHAPTER ONE

I chuckle at his goofy response. The way his broad smile and kind eyes always have the power to immediately lift my mood still astonishes me. We spend our day laughing at our own inside jokes we’ve constructed over the last couple of months as usual and the time flies by. Before I know it, it's already time to close up. “Alright, Jo. Let’s start packing up so we’ll get home in a somewhat reasonable time.” “Why do you keep persisting in calling me that? It’s not my name.” Jessie has called me Jo since my second week here when he saw me reading Little Women on my lunch break. I’ve kept telling him to stop, but the message hasn't seemed to sink in. Most likely because I always smile when he does it or it’s caused by his persistent need to tease me whenever he gets the chance. In fact, I don’t really mind being referenced to a strong female character who basically tells the mere idea of marriage and courtship to suck it. As usual, Jessie simply chuckles at my lousy attempt at a snide remark. “I know that, Jo.” Emphasising the ‘Jo’ more than before. “But that won’t stop me from calling you that.” I can’t stop myself from flickering my glaze to my feet and smiling.

THE MOST PERFECTLY IMPERFECT CREATION

I mean, who could stop themselves when his smile goes from ear to ear like a kid in line for cotton candy at the fair. When I arrive home about half an hour later, I still have a slight grin on my face. That is, unfortunately, interrupted by the buzzing of my phone. I put down my purse and pull out the phone from my pocket. ‘No caller ID’ is written across the screen. I stop breathing and get so lightheaded, it feels like I’m going to faint. I immediately feel the anxiety and fear building like a hard rock in my stomach. How the hell did he get my number? I quickly reject the call and place my phone facedown on the counter. With my shaking hands resting on the cold marble countertop, I try to force my trembling breaths down into my lungs. After only a minute or two, the buzzing starts again. I jump. Shit. Shit. Shit. Hesitantly, I slowly turn the phone over and see that it’s my sister Amanda who’s calling. Exhaling deeply with relief, I answer her call. “Hi sis” I try my very best not to let my voice shake. “Hi! Are you home from work yet?”

CHAPTER ONE

The happiness in her tone calms me a bit. “Yeah, I am. Just got in, actually” We continue to chat about everything and nothing for an hour or so. She tells me about how her very young and very attractive law professor gave her very positive comments on her last assignment, and I tell her about the very uneventful day I had. I’ve always been close with her, except for perhaps a few teenage years but who doesn't argue with their sister when they’re 14, and our relationship has only grown stronger when I moved here. Amanda has always been the kind of woman who, to be blunt, doesn't take any shit. That doesn't mean that she can’t admit when she’s wrong, but that doesn't happen very often. Perhaps that’s why she’ll be a very good attorney. I decided not to tell her about the other call, even though I know that she would have wanted to know. But I don’t even know if it was him. I shake my head. No, it’s better not to bother her with things that may not even be anything important. I'm still a bit shaken so I go to the kitchen, pull out a cup and make myself a cup of tea. The rest of my evening is spent reading Emma by Jane Austin for probably the millionth time. I know that I should probably widen my horizons a bit and read something new but right now, I like the fact that I already know what’s going to happen.

THE MOST PERFECTLY IMPERFECT CREATION

CHAPTER TWO Him

I growl and try to bury my face deeper in the pillow as the buzzing from my phone wakes me up. After it buzzes for the third time, I angrily pick it up to see that it’s Josh, my trainer, who's called five times and texted thee. I put the phone back and lay down again. The phone buzzes once more. Fuck... can he stop? I sigh deeply, pick up the phone and scutch to the end of the bed. I rub my eyes before answering his irritating ‘Where are you?’ ‘Do you know what time it is?’ and ‘Get your ass over here right now or you’re fired’ with a simple ‘will be there in 20’ He’s so fucking annoying. I know I’m late but honestly; I don’t really care. I hear something behind me and turn around just to see the back of yet another pair of shoulders and

CHAPTER TWO

long sweeping dark hair sleeping on the other side of the bed. Why didn't she just leave last night? I hate it when they spend the night. I let out another deep sigh and turn back around before standing up and walking over to my dresser. I pull a back hoodie over my head and a pair of black jeans before I walk to the bathroom. Already a bit aggravated and not really awake yet, I put my hands on the bathroom countertop and look at myself in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot from the lack of sleep. Only have myself to blame for that one, to be honest. And run my hand through my messy dark curls in an unsuccessful attempt of making them look somewhat acceptable. Giving up on not feeling half dead and like I haven’t slept in three weeks, I shake my head and pull the hood over my head and walk out. Even though I know that won’t be the case, I hope that she would have left but that is, of course, not the case. After I give the girl in bed a quick glance, still sleeping soundly. I roll my eyes, sigh, and clench my jaw before walking out to the kitchen. After looking in like four different drawers I finally find a piece of paper and a pen to write with: ‘Had to leave. Take what you want from the fridge.’ Fuck what was her name? Eh, whatever. It doesn't matter.

She looks like the way you feel as you’re lying in the grass under an oak tree in the summertime and see the sun peeking through the branches. The way you feel as a warm summer breeze caresses your face as you’re sitting by the beach watching the sunset on the horizon. For a moment, I forget my own name. Although this might sound like a loving fairy-tale. It is not. This is the story of how love could be harmful, devastating and anything but easy.