Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 499(@300wpm)
Or maybe I don’t belong here at all.
I’m confused by everything. I don’t know what’s normal.
The familiar emotional hurricane spins up inside me, tearing apart my heart, ravaging my mind, and scattering pieces of me into a heap of confusion. I could fall into the black hole of nothingness again. Where I’m no one, and time stands still with butterflies.
I might burst into tears. I might laugh hysterically.
Breathe. Focus on now.
“Em?” His worried eyes search mine. “Are you okay?”
I nod.
“Are you upset I kissed you?”
“No,” I whisper. “I like when you kiss me.”
“We don’t have to stop,” he says softly.
“I know. I just—”
“Or we can sit and hold hands and talk. I just want to be with you. That’s all.”
I want it all. The kisses and the handholding and the talks. I just don’t want to constantly be overshadowed by the past.
“I want to be with you too,” I finally reply. “I’m really trying. So much of tonight was perfect. I love everything you did to make it special. But…”
He slips his arm around me again, pulling me into the safe haven of his shoulder and his cologne. Sighing, I rest my head against him, wishing there wasn’t a past and only a now and a tomorrow.
“But something’s wrong,” he says quietly.
“No, not wrong. Just…new.”
He strokes my hair absently. I close my eyes and enjoy the delicious tingles it sends from my scalp to my toes.
“Then we should talk about it, like you said earlier. We should just throw everything on the table and figure it out, right?”
“Right.”
“You can talk to me about anything, Em. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. I promise.”
Promises. What are they worth, really? Years ago, I promised to love this man no matter what, and then I fell and smacked my head and totally forgot our life together.
I sit up to face him. “Tonight was supposed to be like a real date, a new start for me and you.”
“Exactly,” he agrees.
“But it really wasn’t. It was Ember’s favorite foods.”
“I wanted you to have things you like. I was trying to be thoughtful.”
“Those are things she liked. Not me. I don’t eat chicken.”
He blinks in confusion. “You don’t? Since when?”
“Since I saw this adorable little pet chicken on the internet. It wears sweaters and sleeps in its owner’s bed. It has a personality. I know all animals do, but I just feel attached to that chicken, and now I can’t imagine eating one. Ever! And there it was, all over my plate.”
He stares at me with a half-smile on his face. “You fell in love with a little social media chicken?”
“I guess I did.”
“Oh, babe. I didn’t know.”
Had I ever told him about my obsession with the sweater and hat-wearing chicken? I don’t think I did.
“I know, but sometimes I feel like everyone is thinking about the old Ember. What she liked and wanted. I feel forgotten. And the tongue ring… I’m not really sure if I like it, but she did. I don’t want to think about her name on a piece of metal in your mouth when you’re kissing me. It’s like everything is haunted by your ex. If this was any other date between two people, this wouldn’t be okay.”
I sound crazy and irrational, but yet, it is how I feel.
He lets out a low breath. “I never meant to make you feel that way. But I don’t have an ex, Em.” He dips his head to look me in the eye. “You’re the only one. You’re Ember. You’re not two different people.”
Tearing my eyes from his, I stare at the little butterfly ring on my finger. Has it always been a symbol of what was to come? The caterpillar turns into the butterfly…but what happens to the caterpillar? Is she just gone? Or is she now the butterfly? Are they different beings, or just one, sharing a life?
“Asher…I don’t know how to explain how I feel. Other than, she feels like someone else. For me, sometimes this is like being with someone who’s still in love with their ex and is trying to turn me into her.”
“Christ.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do. It’s important for you to be around things that are familiar to you, so hopefully it’ll spark your memories. Which it has. I hate that it’s upsetting you at the same time. I’m doing my best, but I’m not perfect. I didn’t know about the chicken.”
“I don’t think I ever mentioned it. Kenzi helped me make a private Instagram account so I could follow her and cute things but not have people recognize me.”
“Now that I know, we won’t eat chicken anymore. I’m down with that.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m being totally silly—”
“You’re not, Em. This is good. It’s part of your new personality. Getting attached to new things. Hell, I’ll go buy you your own pet chicken if you want one.”