Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Easton stared down at me, but his stare was vacant. “East.” I tried to put my hand on his face. Easton moved back, and back again, until he ran out of my room. I tried to chase after him but he was too quick. He burst through the front door and out into his waiting truck.
“East,” I tried to shout as I watched him pull away, tires screeching, onto the road, but fatigue stole my voice. My mama was behind me, a worried expression on her face. But I didn’t say anything. I was too tired.
No matter how much sleep I had of late, no amount would ever make me feel replenished. And after last night, after staying up with Cromwell, and telling both him and Easton today, I was wiped out.
I climbed under my comforter and laid my head down on my pillow. I closed my eyes and blocked everything out but the will to sleep.
It wasn’t a surprise that the image of Cromwell’s face managed to sneak through. “I don’t want to go,” I heard his voice say.
It made me smile. Because as much as I prayed I’d be strong enough for the battle ahead, having Cromwell along with me made the task that much less daunting.
I felt like I was in a waking dream when he held my hand. When his soft lips brushed against mine and I heard him play the piano so perfectly beside me. In such a short time, the memories he had given me had become the most treasured in my weak heart.
And it would be these memories, and the ghost of his lips against mine, that would inspire me to fight that much harder.
Chapter Seventeen
Cromwell
I banged on the door of Lewis’s office, rocking on my feet as adrenaline rushed through me. Last night I hadn’t slept for shit. I wanted to text Bonnie. Call her and hear her voice, but I had left her alone. I wanted her; I knew she wanted me. But I had to find a way to make her realize she needed me. Because as I’d lain there awake, staring at the ceiling, I knew I wasn’t giving her up.
I was a selfish prick. Always had been. But this time I wasn’t going anywhere, and it wasn’t just for me. Bonnie needed me too. I knew she did. I heard it in her voice and I saw it in her face.
I banged harder. “Lewis!”
I was running on no sleep. Easton hadn’t come home last night either. He hadn’t said a thing about Bonnie all this time. But his warning not to hurt her weeks and weeks ago now made sense. I assumed he’d gone to their home to be with her. And that just made me so jealous I couldn’t see straight.
I should be there with her too.
I had to be. The claws digging into my heart told me so.
I wouldn’t let her go through this alone. Because she had to get through it. There was no other choice.
“LEWIS!” I kicked the door in anger.
“That won’t get me to appear any sooner, Mr. Dean.” I spun around and saw Lewis approaching, carrying his briefcase.
“I need to speak with you.” I moved aside as he opened the door to his office. I pushed past him and went inside. Lewis came in afterward, closing the door shut as I paced along his office floor. He sat on the edge of his desk, putting his briefcase down beside him. “You have to put me and Bonnie back together.”
Lewis raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure it’ll work, Cromwell.”
“Don’t!” I snapped. “Don’t give me your professor shit about it.” I stopped in front of him. The anger that was pulsing through me, the desperation, faded. “She’s sick.” Lewis didn’t say anything. Sympathy filled his face. Knowing sympathy. “You knew,” I said through gritted teeth. He nodded. “How long?”
“I found out just a couple of weeks ago.”
I sank down to the guest seat at his desk. “That’s why she stopped working with me?”
“That’s up to Bonnie to tell you, Cromwell.”
The blood drained from my face. “Because I was giving her shit. Not helping with the composition… Because she knew she was running out of time, and I…I…” I shook my head and pressed my palms into my eyes. “No,” I said with a hiss.
Lewis moved to the coffee machine in the corner. “You want one?” he offered. I stared at him, almost saying no. But then I realized I had nowhere to go. I had no one else to talk to.
“Yes. Black, no sugar.”
Lewis busied himself with the coffee, and I looked at all his pictures and paintings. I stared at the one above his desk. The colors, like synesthesia. “She loved the exhibit,” I said.
Lewis turned to me and smiled. “Did she?”
“She’s fascinated by it all.” I thought of her sitting with me on the stool, singing her song as I played her guitar. “She just loves music, full stop. Wants to be so good at it that it’s all she thinks about.”