Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“I’m not asking for a ring. I’m not asking for forever. I just want to feel like more than a whore.”
“I don’t fuck you like a whore, Camille.”
“You know what I mean. I want to know I belong at your side. That we share a bed. That I’m your woman.”
He gave a quiet sigh. “I’ve told you my darkest secrets, shit I’ve never told anyone else, and you act like that’s nothing.”
“I didn’t say it was nothing—”
“I show my affection in my own way, but that’s not enough for you.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t enough—”
“That’s exactly what you’re saying. Our relationship has to fit within your terms. It has to be exactly what you want, or it’s insufficient. I’m sorry that our first morning together went to utter shit because I wanted to work out—”
“Because you preferred to sleep alone. That you sneak out once the fun is done. Don’t turn this around, Cauldron.”
“You said you wanted me next to you in the morning. I’m not going to lie there and watch you sleep. I’ve got shit to do. Whether I slept beside you or not, I still would have been gone when you woke up. I could have gotten killed when I came to get you from Grave, and I had to make a sacrifice I didn’t want to make to bring you home, so I don’t appreciate all this bullshit first thing in the morning.” The conversation was obviously finished because he walked away. The muscles of his back shifted and moved as he carried himself out the front door. I had no idea where he was going, and I suspected he didn’t either.
Two days passed.
We didn’t speak. Didn’t see each other at all.
I spent my time in my bedroom, taking my meals there, reading the books on the bookshelf, working out in the afternoons when I knew he wouldn’t be in the gym. As the solitude wore on, I missed him more and more, but I refused to cave first. When two days turned into three, I knew he was being stubborn too.
Who would hold out the longest?
Now it was the beginning of October, and the air started to feel cool and crisp like fall. The pool was heated so I could still take a swim, but it felt pathetic to chase after the summertime when it was long gone. All the tourists left the area, and now the village was quiet. Once late November arrived, a lot of the restaurants and shops would close until spring. Life in Cap-Ferrat slowly faded, and I felt like my body turned cold with it.
That evening was particularly chilly, fog coming in from the ocean and filtering through the trees. The sunset was invisible underneath the heavy clouds, and like ghostly fingers, it made its way onto land.
I walked past his bedroom in the hallway. The door was open, and it was obvious the space was empty. I headed downstairs, unsure if he was out for the night or having dinner alone in the dining room.
At the bottom of the stairs, I peeked inside the study and saw the fire in the massive hearth. It was the first time I’d seen a fire burn in his study, so it was obvious that the fall chill had reached him too.
He sat in one of the armchairs, his hand balancing a glass of scotch on the armrest. In fitted sweatpants and a long-sleeved maroon shirt, he sat with one ankle on the opposite knee, his fingers across his lips, staring at the dancing fire with a focused but blank stare. His jawline was covered with coarse scruff that reached down his neck. His fingers continued to drag back and forth slowly, just below his bottom lip.
I watched him for several seconds before I moved into the room.
His eyes flicked to me at the first footstep, the first inaudible creak in the floorboard. The rest of his body didn’t move. Just the eyes.
I helped myself to the chair beside him, turned slightly his way so I could see both him and the fire.
He remained still, like I wouldn’t see him if he didn’t move.
Neither one of us wanted to speak first.
That was how stubborn we were.
I swallowed my pride and went first. “I don’t want to waste my time—or my heart.”
He turned his head fully and looked at me straight on.
“If you don’t see this going anywhere—”
“Never said those words.”
“Well, you’ve given me no indication if you feel otherwise.”
He gave a slight smirk. “Then you aren’t paying attention.”
“You’ve read my notes that detail every feeling I have for you, and not once have you reciprocated the depth of those feelings. Not even a hint. It’s fine if those feelings aren’t mutual, but don’t string me along if you know there’s no chance they’ll ever be mutual.”