Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Oracle stands beside his friend, his eyes on Beth so he can make sure that she's okay.
"Can we sit?" I ask, indicating the sofa.
Surprisingly, the room is empty despite every bedroom now being full since everyone was asked to come back to the clubhouse.
So many changes have been made because of Nathan, and although I feel guilty for being the catalyst for all of it, it seems everyone is taking it in stride. I haven't heard people whispering about me or seen them sneering in my direction once, and that speaks of the quality of people in this group that Beck calls family.
"I spent most of my life—"
"Brielle you don't have to explain yourself to me," Beth interrupts.
"Because you don't care or because you don't want to know?"
She licks her lips, her eyes on mine, but she remains silent.
"When you came into that house, I saw a woman I didn't recognize. I didn't see the young woman who smiled when she passed a test, I saw a monster. The second you needed to be someone else, you started crying. I couldn't determine which person you were."
I swallow, knowing how it must've looked. I did the same with Beck when he was so very brave and came right into the house that Nathan had me at in Ohio.
"I had to be her at that moment."
Beth takes my hands, and the simple offering of comfort makes my eyes burn.
"I know that now. I knew Nathan was dangerous when he abducted me, I just didn't know how dangerous he was until recently."
"I felt betrayed when you rejected me, but I'm also learning that I have to be accepting of how people feel. It wasn't until recently that I've been given permission to feel certain things myself, so it's something I struggle with. There's a lot of programming that has to be undone in my head," I explain. "It's hypocritical to expect people to understand what I've been through and then turn around and not offer the same to others. I just hope that a day comes when you don't hate me."
"I don't hate you, Brielle," she says, and the look in her eyes tells me that I can trust her words despite the whispers that insist that she's lying.
The voice is growing weaker each day, but it hasn't left completely, and I don't know that it ever will. I was in a fight-or-flight mode for so long, I don't know if the PTSD will ever be fully gone.
"I was waiting for you to be ready to have this conversation," she continues, shocking me.
"Listen, I know we aren't going to be best friends or anything but—"
"Who says?" she asks, shocking me further. "But I have to say, we can't be friends at all until I'm no longer your teacher."
"I think that ship has sailed," I mutter.
"It most certainly has not," she says slapping the tops of her legs as if her decision is final. "I'll give you until after the new year, but come the first full week in January you'll have to get back to your schoolwork."
I look up at her, wanting to argue, but, other than Beck, no one has ever shown any level of confidence in me, and it feels empowering. I want her to be proud of me and my accomplishments, but most of all I want to be proud of myself.
"Okay," I agree, smiling when she does.
I look across the room to find Beck looking a little less worried. He has stuck so close to me since we got back, and I know he's more worried about my mental health than anything else. He has immense confidence in the Cerberus MC's ability to keep everyone here safe, and as the days tick by and I see the precautions they're taking to ensure it, the safer I feel.
"He looks like he's missing you already," she whispers. "I'm glad you have him."
She doesn't speak to me as a student, and maybe it's because I'm twenty-one and not actually a child, but I can't wait to see what comes out of our friendship once I finish school.
"How is it possible to miss someone who's standing only a few feet away?" I ask, not pulling my eyes from Beck.
"Let me know when you figure it out, "she whispers, and when I look back at her, I see her eyes locked on her husband.
Oracle looks at his wife the same way Beck looks at me, and it sends a certain kind of thrill up my spine.
I haven't told him that I love him, but I know that I do. I've hurt him with words in the past, so I'm fully committed to healing the wounds I created with action.
"Does it make us masochists to sit here tortured?" I ask with a huff of laughter.
"I'm too weak for that," she says as she stands.