Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
I hold her hand all night, but she doesn’t wake up. When the doctor does his rounds in the morning, he tells me her vitals look good and to have faith. After the mid-morning rounds pass through, Hazel arrives.
“How is she?” she asks from behind me.
“Stable. Hasn’t woken up yet, though.” She takes a seat beside me and starts to cry. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.” I try to reassure my daughter, even though the words don’t sound promising coming out of my mouth.
“Dad, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should have picked up her call.”
I tuck her against my side to comfort her. “Shhh…baby girl, this is not your fault. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have let her leave that night. We all should have talked it out. I should have been truthful from the beginning.” I’m a fucking bastard.
Hazel cries into my shoulder, and I let her, needing her to know I’m here for her. When she pulls away, I wipe at her soaked cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I should have told you.”
“Why? Why her?”
At this point, I have nothing to lose, so I tell her the truth. “Because she has this aura. From the moment I saw her, it wrapped around me and took hold of me. I knew right away I was done for. I didn’t plan for it. Neither did she. It wasn’t something that happened instantly. Or without caution and regret. But the chemistry was too intense to deny. Don’t hate her. Hate me. She wanted to tell you. I wouldn’t allow it. That’s what we were fighting about when you came home. She couldn’t lie to you anymore. She was ending it.”
She stares at me, digesting my confession. “Do you love her?” Her question throws me off guard. I hadn’t been able to answer it myself until now—until knowing I may not be able to tell her or show her. “I do.” God, I do.
Hazel hugs me, now offering me the comfort I desperately need. “I’m sorry. I handled this wrong. I was just caught off guard by it all.”
“I know. And for that, I’m sorry. It’s over. I won’t—”
Hazel pulls back. “Dad, I’ve never seen or heard you show any proper emotion toward another woman since Mom. And to hear you admit you love Violet, as weird and crazy as it is, I could never take that away from you.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying it may take some time—and be fucking weird since my roommate and best friend is your girlfriend—but if you love her and she loves you, you have my blessing.” I’m taken aback by her approval. It’s not what I expected or deserve, but this is another reason why my daughter is amazing and resilient.
“Thank you,” is all I manage to say. My emotions are still riding high, and seeing Violet lying in this bed is eating me alive. Hazel gives me one last reassuring hug, then tells me she’s going to go find a police officer and turn the voicemail in for evidence.
Minutes turn into hours as I sit and wait for her to open her eyes. Visiting hours expire, and I send Hazel back to her dorm to get some sleep. Night turns into morning, and I peel my heavy lids open to see what time it is.
“Hey.” Her voice is raspy, but it’s her voice. My eyes shoot open. I shake off my dream, making sure I’m actually awake.
“You’re awake. Shit. I’ll go grab a doctor.” I pop up to yell at someone, but Violet grabs my hand.
“They’ve been in. Said my dad’s been here with me the whole time.”
I frown, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “It was the only way they would let me stay with you.”
“It’s okay. That’s what I assumed when I agreed with what a great dad you were.”
I slump back in my chair, capturing her hand. “Fuck, Violet. I’m so sorry. I fucked up, and I should have listened to you. Told Hazel.” I feather kisses along her inner palm, over every fingertip. “You have every reason to hate me, but when I tell you you’re mine, I mean it. If you choose not to forgive me, I’ll be forced to lock you up in my castle and keep you against your will. Because know this: this—us—it’s not a game to me. This is me confessing that I love you. And I want the idea of us to be a reality.”
Tears begin to spill down her pale cheeks, and a ripple of doubt sours in my gut. A low whimper leaves her lips, and I throw myself out of my chair to grab a doctor.
“Heath.” She reaches out and captures my hand. My head snaps back, taking in our entwined fingers, forgetting just how much I need her touch.