Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
If he was going to just walk away, then I wanted to have those answers at least. I’d never pushed him to acknowledge me, but right now, he was going to.
“You are hers.” He said the three words with the same calm response he did everything. But this time, there was something laced in his tone. It wasn’t anger. It was … pain.
“My mother’s? So, because of my mother, you hate me?”
He stood there silently, staring at me. The flicker of sadness in his eyes surprised me. I hadn’t known the man could feel anything unless it concerned Carina.
“I don’t hate you,” he said. “But you are a reminder of her. Every year of your life, you looked more and more like her. Until you turned into a fucking replica. Looking at you is hard. I don’t want to remember. I can’t and survive.”
I blinked as another tear broke free, and I reached up to wipe at my face. His voice had sounded as if it was agony to just talk about my mother.
Had he loved her? Was that it? Her death had been too much for him?
“You loved her?” I asked.
In my head, all the reasons for his disinterest in me was because of the way he’d felt about her. I’d never once considered he had loved her.
He turned his head to look at the door instead of me. I could see his jaw work as he clenched his teeth. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to respond, but just walk out. Never to be seen again—at least by me.
“She was my fucking world, and because of you, I lost her.”
Me? I had been an infant.
“What did I do?” I asked, feeling my throat close up.
His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath, but he didn’t look at me. “Your mother was … she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. She was full of light and laughter, and she could make me feel as if everything would be okay. She was also fragile. Like a doll. Her life hadn’t been easy, and she struggled with memories from her childhood. But I took care of her. Protected her. Then, she got pregnant. Throughout the pregnancy, she had her moments of fear. Unsure she could be a good mother because of the mother she had. I did all I could. I praised her. I reassured her. And you were born. Three days after coming home from the hospital, she withdrew. Got quiet. She would take care of you, but little else. She never wanted to leave the house.” He paused and sucked in a breath, then winced, as if the words were causing him actual pain. “They told me it was postpartum depression. That, along with her mental issues she dealt with—it was a bad combination. There was too much emotional damage.” He swung his eyes back to me then. “She left me. She took her life while I was at work. Your birth had done that to her. You broke her.”
I stood there as a heaviness began to settle over me. It was suffocating. The weight on my chest was crushing.
He began walking again, and I said nothing as he went to the door. This was it. He was going to walk out of this house and just leave me. My stepmother had left with my younger siblings. Ares was gone. Crosby had completely vanished.
Why was it that I was so easy to leave? Everyone left me.
I closed my eyes when the door closed behind Nick. Several minutes passed as I heard the engine in his truck, then the sound of him pulling out of the driveway. When I opened my eyes again, I looked toward the master bedroom. He’d taken what he wanted and gone. All that was left in this house was mine. You’d think I was used to feeling alone by now, but I’d never truly understood what that was until this moment.
This was alone. In a house I’d lived in for most of my life. The memories of my life here, both good and bad, felt like ghosts in the emptiness.
Tomorrow, I’d have to find a place to live.
Nick had been so sure that my looks would be all I needed when even he’d had no problem leaving me. Just like the only mother I’d ever known, the woman who had given birth to me, and Crosby had. Holding on to the hope that Crosby would return, that there would be a good excuse, that he’d called Carina’s phone and not been able to get in touch with me was a waste of time. If he was going to call or text, he would have done so by now.
Turning around, I walked into the bedroom I had shared with my sister. The sound of her laughter seemed to be a faint whisper as I went over to my side of the closet to start packing my things. Sleep wasn’t going to come anytime soon.