Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
“I did some online therapy,” she said. “I was kind of afraid to give too much detail in case they had to report it to cops or something and it helped Chris find me. Anyway, that’s not what I came to talk about.”
“Okay. I’m listening,” I said, folding my hands and watching her expression.
“When you talked about the carnival, it sounded really cute. It’s not that I want to go. It’s that it’s the first time I let myself think about how nice it would have been, you know, to be a mom. I was lonely growing up, like I said, but I always thought I’d have kids. Chris, well, he wanted to have a baby, I think to tie me to him and also to have something to threaten or hurt to keep me in line. There was no way in hell I was going to get pregnant. He had stealthed me when we were using condoms, but I was on the pill, too. He found the pills one time, got so mad at me and flushed them. I went on the birth control shot in secret. It wasn’t the kind of home I’d want for a baby. I couldn’t even keep myself safe with him. Trying to raise a child with him would be another level of nightmare. So I shut down the part of me that wanted to be a mother, and I told myself I didn’t deserve it anyway because I’d cut off my own mom and wouldn’t talk to her because she didn’t welcome Chris into our lives. But when you said that about the face painting, that was it, that idea of kneeling down by a little kid and asking what she wanted and her saying she wanted to be a fairy, so they paint sparkles and purple swirls on her face and she’s so excited and wants to see how it looks—I could see it all so clear. It was like a band-aid ripping off, it hurt but it uncovered what it had been hiding. The longing for a baby.” She sighed.
“I think that’s a good thing. For one, you’ll be an amazing mom. You’re fun and brave and loving,” I said. “Our mom used to build forts with us in the living room. Extravagant ones using all the chairs and couch cushions and quilts off the bed. These things had multiple rooms and everything. When I was about five she and I built a pretend plane out of the picnic table and some rowboat paddles. I wore a pan on my head like a helmet and some swim goggles.” I chuckled. “She encouraged me to be imaginative and take risks, and when I got hurt, she’d patch me up, give me a hug and let me try again. She didn’t try to overprotect me—Jake did that plenty. But I grew up knowing it was safe for me to try and fail and keep going. That was her biggest gift to me.”
Jasmine hugged me. “She sounds incredible. I wish I could meet her.”
“So, do I. She’d tell you to keep moving forward. Don’t let what he did decide your future.”
“I’ll try,” she said. She nestled into me. It felt so good, the way it had when I came to the office yesterday and held her when she was afraid. The perfect fit of her against my chest. I started counting backward from one million in my head to try to keep my reactions under tight control. The soft curves of her pressed against me threatened to rip my will power to confetti in an instant if I let myself think about it. Even with my stubborn focus on counting, my cock stirred to life. I kept my eyes open and fixed on the light switch on the wall opposite. If I let my eyes drift shut and took a long breath I’d hopefully calm down.
“Don’t give up on the life you wanted because a bad man tried to wreck you.”
“Thanks. And thanks for listening,” she said, pulling back from the hug.
Jasmine’s smile was shy, her face flushed. Her blue eyes seared through me. Heat washed over me, made me breathless.
I lost count in spite of my best efforts.
My hands framed her face. I bent close and kissed her. It shook me to my bones, the force of that kiss. It wasn’t a blaze of lightning or fireworks as I’d been led to believe by novels and films all my life. It was a sudden stillness and a shift, an opening, like a lever was pulled and my life swiveled around into something entirely different. It would never be the same and neither would I. Not after kissing Jasmine.
“Eli,” she said against my lips before I parted hers to taste her fully. She wrapped her arms around my back and held me close, tilted her head to let me taste and tease her at a more satisfactory angle. I groaned in spite of myself and gathered her up in my arms, lifted her off her feet. I wanted to claim her, but more than that, I wanted to pull her into me, protect her, let her feel what I couldn’t put into words. That I’d been in love with her longer than I cared to admit. That it damn near killed me not to make love to her yesterday—had that been only yesterday? It seemed like it was last month or last year. Everything had telescoped since then.