Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
My own therapist has tried to tell me I’ve built him up in my mind to be greater than he was. But I know the truth. He was my happily ever after. Until my fairy tale was taken from me.
I hate that over the years, the people around me have made me question what Easton and I had together. At times, it makes me feel unfaithful to him. The reality is Easton will never see or hear of Melody Monroe again. I’ve been scrubbed clean as though I ceased to exist.
I’ve struggled with that every single day for the last five years. Sometimes so much so that I thought the guilt would consume me. Thinking of Easton and me never getting to say goodbye. I’m not even sure if he would’ve wanted to give me one. I could never face him or anyone else in that city again after what my father had done.
I think that’s one of the hardest things for me to accept about all of this. Sure, the loss of him in my life is unbearable most days, but the idea of him hating me because of the things my father did is what really drives a stake into my heart.
Easton’s parents already had opinions about me and my family. Don’t get me wrong; they were never anything but kind to me. But I know they didn’t approve of our relationship.
They thought I steered their son in a different direction than the path they’d laid in front of him his whole life. So I already had a mark against me in their book. My father’s actions had just put the nail in the coffin. It only proved them to be right. That killed me a bit inside because Easton would always tell me I was the golden sparkle that made him care about anything at all.
“You don’t like it?” My sister does a slow turn to show off her dress. I mean, it is very Vegas.
“You have a date?” If she does, I already don’t care for this person she’s trying to be different for. The woman in front of me isn’t her. I bet it took her an hour to straighten out her natural curls. They aren’t going to know the real Elsa.
Over the last year, she has really played into changing who she is. I could be wrong. She was only a young girl when we left our old life behind, but this isn’t what I thought she’d become.
“You know you’re beautiful. You always have been. But there is a difference in the types of beauty. I’m just not sure it’s my sister that’s really standing in front of me.”
“Isn’t that the point? The old us doesn’t exist anymore.”
I wish that was true. I can’t leave behind my past, no matter how hard I try.
“Do you need a ride?” I offer, wanting to find out where she might be off to. For over a month, I’ve known she’s been up to something. Not that I haven’t been up to some things of my own.
“Nope, got me a Lyft.” Her phone dings at the same time she says it.
Elsa—no, Alice, I correct in my mind—is out the door before I can try to protest. I have to remind myself that she’s an adult and can make her own decisions. It’s hard when for so long, I’ve been like a mom to her. I want to protect her from the world. But I know that I have to let her figure things out on her own.
Five years and it’s still hard to get used to calling her Alice. It was a name she picked herself.
My little sister isn’t the only one that’s hiding something. I hate keeping secrets from her, but I didn’t want to say anything because I think I truly don’t believe what is happening to me. I had no idea how my little project would take off. I grab my phone to check to see if there are any new updates.
I didn’t have a clue when I randomly sent my book to a publisher that I would get a response. Heck, I’d sent it to a few, and all of them had responded. I was sure it would be lost in some black hole. I took my shot, the one Easton always wanted me to take. I lived up to that promise. Never in a million years would I have imagined the amount of interest my book would garner.
Writing started as a way for me to remember and heal after I lost my mom. It was equally painful and cathartic to write down my story each day. Some days it wasn’t easy to get the words on the page.
Sure, the happy times were easy to write, but the not-so-happy ones, not so much. But at least this way, I got to choose my own ending. To imagine what my happily-ever-after with Easton would’ve been if not for what happened all those years ago. No one could erase my words or take that away from me.