Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“I love you,” she whispered.
“We have each other, and we’ll deal with everything else.”
“I didn’t sleep with Bradley,” she burst out.
Relief coursed through me at her words, and I struggled not to show it on my face. “Why?”
She eased off my lap and paced in front of the windows, the blanket still draped around her shoulders. Her bare legs showed the scar that ran down her leg to her ankle, still vivid against her pale skin. She was so thin and wan-looking, it made me want to pull her into my arms and keep her safe. Make her strong again.
“I couldn’t,” she said simply. “His touch—it felt so wrong.”
“Did he try?”
“Yes. A few times.” Her hands fluttered nervously, the blanket falling from her shoulders as she kept pacing. “I could never feel completely comfortable with him. I kept telling myself it was because I couldn’t remember and I’d get over it. Except it never got any better.”
“How did he handle it?”
She shrugged, not looking at me.
“Ally.”
“He was fine at first, telling me he would wait until I was better. The last couple of times, he got impatient. He said I was stalling.” She paused. “He was right.”
“Why? You were engaged. It would be natural to explore that with the man you were supposed to be in love with.”
“That’s just it! It didn’t feel right. I didn’t like it. I was so confused all the time.” She stopped her pacing, standing in front of me. She clenched her hands, wrapping them around the bottom of my shirt. “My mother and Bradley kept telling me how in love we were and how happy I should be. No matter how hard I tried, though, I was never very happy. I wasn’t even sure why I said yes when he asked, except it seemed to be what I was supposed to do. He’d been so good, coming to see me all the time and being kind.” She twisted her hands some more. “I kept telling myself if I loved him so much, it would come back. One day, I’d feel it. Except the only thing I felt all the time was bewilderment and worry. Like I was doing something wrong.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I was so lost, Adam. I missed you. I missed you so much, and I didn’t know that was what I was feeling.”
I opened my arms, engulfing her small, shaking frame as she launched herself at me. “I missed you too. It felt as if all the color had drained from my world without you, Ally. Everything was black-and-white. I was barely existing. But not anymore. I feel as if everything is bright again. I’m not letting you go. Ever.”
We sat wrapped around each other in silence. “What do we do now?”
“We’re going to confront them. Tell them it’s done. We’ll have the power of attorney removed. You need to have control over your own life again.” I ran my finger over her pale cheek. “We’ll have you checked by the doctor, and then we’re going to move forward with our plans. The ones they took away from us.”
“I’m worried,” she admitted quietly.
“Tell me why.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so angry toward someone. I don’t know how I’ll react when I see my mother or Bradley. And all of this seems so overwhelming, I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“I know it’s a lot. We’ll figure it out a step at a time. You don’t have to hide how you feel, Ally. You’ve been hiding long enough. Speak your mind to them. I’ll be beside you the whole time. No one will touch you, and nothing is coming between us.”
“I never want to see my mother again—or Ronald. And I’m not sure I can forgive Bradley if he’s as involved as I’m afraid he is. I can’t believe he’d stoop so low.”
“Then don’t. It’s time to get your life back. Ask your questions, say what you think. It’s time to finally be free of them.”
A look of determination crossed her face.
“All right.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
ADAM
“Adam,” Ally called as she searched the cupboard a short time later. “Where’s my mug—the one you brought me from London?”
“Oh. It, ah, got broken.”
“What a shame! I liked that mug—it was my favorite.” I heard her rummaging a little more. “Where are the other mugs? The ones that went with our dishes? In fact…”
I shut my eyes, knowing what was next. I was ashamed when I thought of my tantrum that day, but I couldn’t take it back.
“…where are the dishes?” She turned around. “All that’s in the cupboards are a bowl and a couple of plastic containers. The only mug is the one we’ve been sharing. Where are the rest of them?”
I tried stalling. “You don’t like sharing a mug with me anymore?”
“Adam.” Her voice held a warning.