Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I’m not leaving them.
I’m not abandoning my daughter.
I’m never going to hurt Lauren again.
The rain comes down harder, making it difficult to see. But I don’t stop. I let out a breath, thinking of Lauren.
Her smile.
Her lips.
The way she sees the good in everything.
Her smooth legs, wrapping around me.
How good it feels when she’s holding me.
Her.
I let off the throttle, and the bike loses speed. My mind is on Lauren as I coast down, and I don’t notice it until it’s too late. Thank the fucking Lord I’m not going fast anymore. My tires slip on loose gravel. Time stops.
Everything happens in slow motion, yet passes too quickly for me to react.
I’m falling, body sideways just inches from the road. I hit the road. I’m skidding along, skin tearing, clothing ripping. I can’t stop. Can’t move. Can’t do anything but wait until it’s over and think of her.
Her smile. Her lips. Her kiss.
My vision starts to go black and pain takes over, deep inside my head. And I can’t help but think I will never feel those things again.
Chapter 23
LAUREN
“YOU LOOK EXHAUSTED,” Julia says as we go into work Monday morning. “Did the shower yesterday wipe you out?”
I force a smile. “Something like that.” Really, I was up all night crying. My heart is broken. It’s only been about twelve hours since I last saw Noah’s gorgeous face, and I miss him so much. So, so fucking much. Hell, I missed him this much only seconds after he walked out the door. It’s not the length of time passing between us, it’s knowing that this is how it’s going to be.
Me. A single mom. A working mom. Trying to figure it all out on my own. I’m not the first to do it, and I certainly won’t be the last. But that doesn’t make me feel any better. And right now I’m not sure I can do it. I’m not sure I can provide everything for Ella.
And really, that’s what matters.
My broken heart can heal. I can learn to sleep alone again. But Ella … I can’t even think of her wanting, of her needing something I can’t get her without crying.
I start the day, blaming the exhaustion on the pregnancy. The lie is bought with no question. The clock moves so slowly sometimes I swear it’s going backwards. But I keep pushing, because that’s all I can do. The current is against me, but I won’t drown.
I can’t drown. I won’t drown. Because I have Ella.
“Lauren,” Dr. Banfield calls when I walk past her office after going to the bathroom for the millionth time that day. “Any news from Purdue? I know letters are going out around this time.”
The words are like a slap to the face and I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Dr. Banfield gets up from her desk. She’s an older woman with her eyes set on retirement. All her employees love her. “I honestly assumed you’d get in. You’re so smart and such a hard worker.”
“I did get in,” I squeak out.
Dr. Banfield raises an eyebrow. “So are those tears of joy?”
My head falls and emotions take over, turning me into The Incredibly Pregnant Hulk. “I got in but can’t go because I got drunk and slept with my brother’s best friend and got pregnant and now he’s gone and I’ll be alone forever.” I have no control over myself at that point. I break down in tears.
Dr. Banfield is a wise, older woman, but she’s not emotional by any means. Reserved at all times, she awkwardly hugs me then calls Julia into the office.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Julia asks, wrapping me in an embrace. I hiccup and sniff back my tears.
“I got into vet school and can’t go because of Ella,” I say through tears.
“Oh, honey.” Julia gives me another hug, then the three of us sit around Dr. Banfield’s desk. Julia gives me a tissue.
“I went to school during a completely different time,” Dr. Banfield starts, trying to console me. “But there were parents in there with me. It’s possible.”
“Thanks,” I say and wipe my eyes. Parents are different. Parents are plural.
“What about Noah? Can’t he help?” Julia asks and suddenly I’m embarrassed. No, Noah can’t help because he’s not ready to be a dad, nor does he want to be. He made it quite clear when he missed our baby shower.
“Maybe,” I mumble. “Purdue is hours away. I just don’t see how it’ll work.”
“There’s always next year,” Julia offers. “You got in once, you could get in again.”
I nod. “I could.”
“And don’t rule out other schools,” Dr. Banfield adds. “You know I’m a fan of MSU.” She points to her degree on the wall. “And that’s a lot closer.”
I nod again. Talking it out makes things seem so easy. My heart needs to believe it is that easy, because it can’t take any more pain. It’s beating for two right now. I have to protect it.