Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
This girl had been through more pain in a couple of years than anyone should have in their lifetime.
“I have to learn to forgive myself,” she added.
“Forgive yourself?” I blinked. “You didn’t cause his death.”
“No, but I made a part of his life painful. I wish I could take it all back. And of course, I can’t help but wonder how things might have turned out if I’d still been home in Shady Hills, if I’d never left. He might’ve been with me that night and not in that car.”
“You can’t think like that, though. For all you know, you might’ve been with him in that car.”
“Sometimes I wish I was.”
I frowned. “Don’t say that, Emily.”
“I thought you liked my honesty.”
“I do. But I don’t want you to think like that. And if you truly believe that, you need to change your perspective.”
Her eyes grew watery. “Jacob was honest and kind-hearted and a representation of all that is good in the world. After what happened with my mother’s boyfriend, he did everything he could to help me see things in a different light. And I thanked him by breaking up with him. It’s really hard to spin it any other way.”
“You had your reasons. Good, logical reasons. And you were so freaking young.”
“He needed to be free of me. And I needed to go away to college without any responsibilities. I needed to grow up. He was the only boyfriend I’d ever had. But he still deserved better than for me to end things with almost no warning.”
I shook my head. “Like we talked about before, there’s a lot we don’t understand about life—about why things happen the way they do, why good people die young. All we can do is the best we can. And, Emily, I haven’t known you very long, but I know you’re doing the damn best you can with what you’ve been dealt. And I’m proud of you.” I reached for her hand. “It’s an honor to know you.”
“I wish I felt like I was doing my best,” she admitted, taking my hand. “All I see when I look in the mirror is someone who’s hurt people.”
“That’s what I mean by perception. When you get the right therapy, you won’t see it that way anymore. You don’t need to work through this alone.”
She took a deep breath and let go of my hand. “Well, that’s my life in a nutshell. Not much more I can say. Broken childhood. Killed a man. Lost a boy I loved with all my heart. I’ve felt outside of myself and floated through life ever since. I graduated from college and somehow ended up in Chicago buying pee pads for one of the most famous rockstars on Earth.”
“Well, I, for one, am damn grateful for that.” I smiled, and she returned it. Thank God she was smiling again.
She blew out a long breath. “I’ve had enough of talking about me, if that’s okay?”
“Of course. But thank you for sharing as much as you did.”
“I gave you way more than you bargained for.”
“I can handle it all. I’m always here if you need to talk. I mean that, Emily. Day or night.”
She nodded and looked at me a moment. “Tell me about your childhood.”
“Not sure I can remember that far back.” I winked.
“Well, you are old as fuck.” She laughed.
Once again, I gave myself props for making her smile. Truthfully, I felt almost guilty thinking about how much easier I’d had it growing up.
“I had a nice childhood. It was pretty typical up until a certain point. You know, the classic situation. My dad coached all my sports teams while my mother made cookies for the school bake sale—that kind of thing.” I paused, reflecting. “Then when I was about twelve, everything changed. My parents got divorced, and my dad remarried a couple of years later. It wasn’t traumatic or anything, but it did turn my world upside down in a way.”
She nodded. “I can’t imagine having all that and then losing it. That might be tougher than not knowing what you’re missing.”
“It sucked at the time. But it’s all good. I’m grateful for the normalcy I did have. I’ll always cherish those early years.”
“How old were you when you left home?”
“I moved to L.A. at sixteen. Whenever something difficult happens in my life, I throw myself into music. I was writing lyrics from a very young age. Taught myself how to play guitar at, like, thirteen. The time when my parents got divorced was ironically the time that everything started happening for me. I eventually found a talent manager. But he was California-based and wanted me out there, which is why I moved.”
“How did you manage moving away from home at that age?”
“My mom moved with me.”
“Ah, I didn’t know that.”