Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
I couldn’t even tell him how I felt. And now I’m so glad I couldn’t, because all the tears, sleepless nights, and hating myself would only be worse if I’d made that mistake. I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself.
“Do you feel like being honest with me?”
“What do you mean?” I ask while hanging clothes in the closet.
“You know what I mean.” The chipper note has drained out from her voice, and I’m not sorry for it. It was starting to get on my nerves. “Tell me the truth.”
“About what?”
“About what happened in the house. With Romero.”
I have to close my eyes and force my way through a deep breath at the sound of his name. It’s like something tried to take me out at the knees.
“Did you do what I think you did?”
“Why are you asking me this? What do you think you know?” I can’t look at her. Besides, she’ll see it all over my face when I do. We’ve known each other for too long. It was stupid to think she wouldn’t see through me right away.
“I think I know you’re in pain. It’s breaking my heart to see it. You try like hell to hide it, the way you always have. But part of you is missing. Things have settled down with Kristoff’s dad. So what is it? Did he hurt you?”
“No!” I spin around, shocked she would even think it — before knowing she asked for a reason. She wanted me to look at her.
“He did, though. Just not physically. Right? You can tell me. Come on, I see it. I feel it. I won’t judge you, and you know your secrets are always safe with me.”
“You’re married to my father.”
“Sure, but I loved you first.”
The sweet, simple way she says it brings tears to my eyes. “I screwed everything up. I knew it was wrong, but I went ahead and did it anyway.”
She sighs heavily. “I thought so. Really, I’m not surprised. It was obvious there was something between you two.”
“It’s easy to say that now.”
“No, I’m talking about before you went away.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Come here. Sit down.” She pats the bed and waves me over. “Why do you think he volunteered to look after you when you were away? The way he made it sound, it was practically his idea to take you out there.”
“I…” I need to sit down. I plop onto the bed, staring at the floor. Is she right? I never thought of it that way.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” My head bobs up and down. I can’t bring myself to look at her. I don’t know why I’m embarrassed. She has never judged me, and I know she never would. But that’s fine. I can judge myself hard enough for the both of us.
“Do you love him?”
I want to say no. I want to tell her she’s off base. But that would be a waste of breath – she knows me too well. And I am so tired of lying, anyway. The way I lied about Kristoff. Look where that got me.
“I thought I did.” The shame is almost enough to choke me. I have to swallow it back. “But I was right about him all along. He’s Dad’s lapdog. All that matters is his work. He wants to make sure his master is happy.”
“Is that fair? I’m sure you got to know him a lot better than I did.” When I glance up from the floor, she winces. “Not in that way, obviously. You know him as a person better than I do. You have to know he cares about more than the job.”
“It doesn’t matter either way. He didn’t even come back with me. He didn’t say he was sorry for springing it on me that Dad was coming to take me home. It was like all the time we spent together was only in my imagination. Nothing really changed.”
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could say something that would make it better.”
“I know.” I grab a tissue from my pocket, snickering bitterly at myself. “You’re probably so tired of hearing me cry.”
“I wish you didn’t have to, but no, I’m not tired of you. I love you too much.” Then she sniffles, and I hand her a tissue, and we take a second to calm ourselves down.
“You know what the worst part is?” I ask while running my hands over my cheeks to catch the endless tears. “I actually miss our screwed-up life together. We had a routine, you know? It was nice. He’d come downstairs after he finished working, and we would have dinner together, and it was almost…” I shake my head hard, waving my hands. “Nope. I’m not gonna do this to myself. It was all in my imagination. It’s my fault.”