A Cosmic Kind of Love Read Online Samantha Young

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
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“You take care of your mom, Hallie. . . . But remember, take care of you too.”

Her mouth trembled. “I just . . . uh . . . I haven’t heard her like this in a while.”

I wasn’t callous. I felt for Hallie’s mom. But I’d also learned some things about how her parents treated her, and I didn’t like a lot of it. At all. Hallie was the one I cared about, and I didn’t want her lost in her parents’ messed-up relationship anymore. Drawing her into my arms, I hugged her hard and she sank into me.

We stayed like that longer than I meant to.

“I better go,” she murmured.

Nodding, I pressed a kiss to her temple and released her. “Let me know when you get there.”

“I will.” She smiled gratefully. “Thank you for being such a great friend, Chris.”

I returned her smile with a small one of my own and watched her walk away.

The next time I saw her, I would come clean and hope that not only did I still rank as a great friend but that she’d still be open to something more.

Something that involved me kissing every perfect inch of her.

TWENTY-FOUR

Hallie

It was late by the time I pulled up to my father’s new house. I’d borrowed mom’s car since she was passed out on her bed. Exhausted and more nervous than I could remember being in a long time, I sat outside my dad’s house trying to talk myself out of the car.

After listening to my mom drunkenly sob about her heartbreak for over an hour before she passed out, I felt anger building bigger and bigger inside me. Anger that had always been there, simmering. Not just at my dad. At Mom too. However, she was too drunk and upset for me to say what needed to be said.

And I had to get this out.

Perhaps it was the embarrassment of standing next to Chris, watching the distaste in his eyes as he realized I’d dated someone as abhorrent as George, or perhaps it was both that and years of resentment. Whatever had led me to jump into Mom’s car and drive to my father’s house, I knew I couldn’t bottle it up anymore.

I’d turned a blind eye to who George was because it was easier than having to deal with a confrontation or a breakup. I’d let Gabby treat me like crap since high school. I’d allowed my parents to pass me back and forth in this stupid war, and I let all of them make me feel like an inept child. I allowed them to do that, and that was on me. But now it needed to stop.

Lia was the first person who ever made me feel competent and good at something, and that meant a lot to me, coming from someone as smart and as driven as her.

Althea was the first friend who made me feel like a person worth having in their life, and that meant a lot because she was a no-bullshitter and did not suffer fools easily.

And Chris made me feel special, important, and like I could take on the world if I wanted to. Chris, who was intelligent and brave and didn’t do what other people wanted him to do. He made choices because they were his choices, and he was honest to a fault, no matter the consequences. He was right about my habit of people-pleasing in every situation. It didn’t get me anywhere, and all it did was give my parents the license to take me for granted, to use me to clean up their messes.

I’d heard a lot about how they were feeling these past few years.

Not once had either of them asked how it affected me.

And if I didn’t tell one of them, I was going to explode.

I pushed out of the car, slamming the door behind me. By the time I made it to the door, it was already opening. Miranda squinted at me under the light of their front porch. “Hallie? Is everything okay?”

“Is my dad home?”

“Yeah, yeah, come in.” She stepped aside, and I noted she was in her pajamas. “It’s late, are you okay?”

Sensing her genuine concern, I nodded. “I just need to talk to my dad.”

“Hallie?” My father walked into the hallway from the living room. He was still in his dress shirt and pants, though he’d discarded his tie, and his hair was mussed. I could hear the murmur of the TV in the background. “What are you doing here?” His voice was low. “Is everything okay?”

I stared at the guy who had missed so many events in my life because of his work but who had shown me in other ways that he had my back. I’d bounced around from baseball to swimming to gymnastics to skating to art class to piano lessons . . . My entire childhood he’d indulged me in my whims and defended them to my mom when she said I gave up too easily. Honestly, I hadn’t. I was just always excited to try something different. Dad had understood that about me back then. As I grew older, I lost that thirst for adventure because I’d been too busy trying not to ruffle any feathers and be a good girl and do whatever would keep the peace.


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