Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Oh,” I smile, pleasantly surprised. My parents haven’t gone out on a date since… well, I can’t actually remember. “Have a good time.”
“Thanks, darling,” she says, giving my shoulder a squeeze before calling out for Cade to tell him to hurry up so they don’t miss their reservation.
Trish goes to walk out of the dining room as the boys are walking in. She stops to give them each a kiss on the cheek before reminding them to be good and do their homework. They roll their eyes and before I know it, she’s gone and it’s just the three of us sitting down for dinner.
I sit at the table, hating that I feel so awkward when clearly, the boys are as relaxed as can be. Nate digs straight in and helps himself to his dinner and I’m pleased to find him not insisting on dishing up my dinner for me.
I fill up my glass while I wait for Jesse to dish up his own dinner before he passes the serving spoon to me. I head straight for the vegetables and find the smallest piece of meat on the tray, knowing this isn’t going to go well.
I feel Nate’s glare on me but I ignore it as I make myself comfortable on the chair. The boys wolf down their dinner with a speed that I’m sure will be giving them a stomach ache while I pick and pull my dinner apart, mainly only eating a handful of vegetables.
Nate hasn’t taken his eyes off me the whole time, and I swear, it just makes it worse. I can’t help but glance up at him only to find him scowling at me. I feel completely ashamed of myself. Embarrassed even.
I look back down at my plate, hating that I have this problem. I wish I could just swallow my food and not have an issue, but I can’t. No matter how many times I try, I just can’t.
My eyes pool with unshed tears but I don’t dare let them fall.
I stab a piece of broccoli onto my fork and lift it to my mouth. I bite off the top of it and start chewing. If I was at home right now, I’d have probably have only eaten half as much as I already have, but here, with an audience, I’m forced to actually try, and from the look on both Nate and Jesse’s faces, I’m clearly not trying hard enough.
I get halfway through my broccoli when Nate flies out of his chair, grabs my plate, and launches it across the room. The plate crashes into the wall and the expensive china shatters into a thousand pieces. “Fuck, Tora,” he demands.
My eyes widen in shock as a gasp flies out of my mouth. My eyes meet Nate’s and he stares back at me with nothing but pure rage on his handsome face while his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.
My heart’s racing for a whole new reason and it’s one I don’t like. I swallow back fear as the look in his eyes is downright terrifying.
Nate slams his fist down onto the table and before I know it, I’m pushing back out of my chair and running. I’m not ready to face this and I know if I stay at this table a second later, that’s exactly what he’s going to make me do.
So, I run.
I dash out of the dining room and out through the kitchen before heading for the stairs. I take two at a time and am just about to push through my bedroom door when his arms curls around my waist and he pulls me back before slamming me up against the wall.
We stare at each other, both taking deep, heavy breaths. The rage is still bubbling up in his eyes but behind that is nothing but concern. “What the fuck is your problem?” he demands from right above me. “Do you think your fat?”
I shrink back from him. “No,” I say in a quiet voice.
“Then what is it, Tora?” he yells. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Do you have any idea how unhealthy this is?”
“I…” I look away as the tears pooled in my eyes finally spill over.
“Spit it out.”
I swallow back as my watery eyes look up into his. My heart breaks with having to talk about it. “I… I just.” I let out a sigh. “I just don’t feel it,” I say, feeling like a stranger in my own skin.
“Feel what?” he demands.
I look away, once again ashamed of myself. “Beautiful,” I whisper.
“Fuck,” he says, pushing himself off the wall and walking up the hallway. He stops a few steps up and presses both hands into the wall before hanging his head. I keep my eyes trained on him, certain that if I was to move, he’d come right back after me.