Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
He only admitted to wanting me when we were already in bed, but I knew he watched me constantly. All I had to do was crawl into his bed to find him hard and aching to punish me for torturing him all day with my clothing choices or my bad habit of leaving the bathroom door open. I knew part of him felt guilty for the things he did and said, even if I came harder when he pinned my hands above my head or wrapped my hair around his fist.
But then the sun would rise, and he’d pull away, leaving me to wonder if any of it was real or if it was all just a dream.
I held the ticket in my hand as I watched the sunlight creep across my bedroom wall the day before my scheduled departure. Tomorrow I’d board a flight that would take me thousands of miles away. I really should have started packing sooner, but I kept putting it off, despite my resolve to give my dad the distance he wanted.
My suitcase sat empty beside me on the bed. I glanced at the jewelry on my dresser, the hair products on my desk, and the folded clothes in the laundry basket on the floor.
Who had I been kidding all this time? I was never going to leave. I wasn’t strong enough.
I didn’t have to get up to know who was knocking at my door.
“Come in,” I called out.
My dad opened the door but didn’t step inside.
“I made lunch,” he said. “Are you hungry?”
“No.” I couldn’t stomach eating right now, not when I knew I was about to disappoint him.
“You haven’t packed,” he said calmly.
“No, I haven’t.” It was pointless to put off telling the truth when it was strewn all around me. “I’m not leaving tomorrow.”
He came into the room. “Why not?”
I tried to gauge his mood based on his tone and the weight of his steps, since the look on his face wasn’t telling me much of anything.
“Because I don’t want to.”
He stood in the middle of my room as if he was afraid to come all the way over to the bed. “You know, everyone gets nervous when they move away from home for the first time.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“It’s fine if you are, though.”
“I know.”
He nodded. I was surprised when he closed the distance between us and sat down on my bed. “What can I do to make you feel better about this?”
I shrugged. It hurt to be so close to him and yet so far. More than anything, I wanted to throw myself into his arms, but I knew my heart would shatter if he didn’t hug me back—or worse, if he hugged me and then told me to leave anyway.
“Come on, Willow,” he said, nudging my arm. “You worked your ass off to get into an Ivy League school. This is an amazing opportunity, a chance to start fresh in a new city.” For a second, he looked like he was struggling to believe his own words.
“I don’t want a fresh start.”
My nose burned. The urge to cry was almost impossible to resist, but I didn’t want to turn into a blubbering mess. I couldn’t stand the thought of him caving and letting me stay just because he felt sorry for me.
“Do you really want me gone that badly?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady. “You really can’t stand to have me around anymore, can you?”
“What?” He looked confused, but I didn’t dare trust my eyes.
“I get it,” I said, standing. “Seeing me reminds you of things you’d rather forget. You had to kill people to protect me. You had to…hurt me, and every night since we got back, I’ve asked you to keep hurting me. I can’t imagine how painful that must be for you.”
My dad’s confused expression shifted to a look of devastation so quickly, I almost burst into tears. I’d been so selfish these past few weeks, trying to get closer to him when all he wanted was to go back to the way things used to be.
He got up from the bed and walked over to me, taking both my hands.
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. “I’m sorry I’m like this—”
“Shh, hey…” He wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay. Nothing is okay. I’m sick and broken and I want you to be sick and broken with me because I love you and I want to be with you, but I don’t know how to be normal around you anymore, and now you hate me.”
“No, Willow. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.” He brushed his thumbs over my cheeks, but the tears kept coming. “I love you so much. So fucking much, I swear I’m going insane.”