Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I had to keep moving.
Keep doing.
It was the only way I was going to get through this.
It was why I was already back to work, even though my boss had been willing to give me several weeks off, if necessary.
“Show off,” Sage grumbled as I sucked in a breath and did a front flip that made my belly bottom out in the best way possible.
I liked it enough that I did another and another and another. Until I ran out of trampolines.
My pulse was thumping in my ears, muffling the sounds of my thoughts, giving me the peace that I’d been seeking as I suddenly turned the car off the main street when I’d seen the sign for the trampoline park.
Sure, Sage and I were both going to have grumbling stomachs when we got back to work, but Sage wasn’t about to complain, knowing how things were with me right now.
We’d been good friends since we both found out we were both dating the same guy when we were eighteen. We both dumped him, but kept each other. So she’d been through a lot with me in the past. She understood how I needed to distract myself in times of high stress or unstable emotions.
My emotions had never been as precarious as they were now.
So a little hunger was a small price to pay to keep me from absolutely losing my shit.
“You’re gonna be feeling that later,” Sage said as I free fell onto my back, the trampoline pushing me right back onto my feet. So I repeated it over and over again.
She wasn’t wrong, my abs were starting to ache from all the new, unfamiliar movements. But I was happy for the ache. I would be glad for the pain later as the strain set in.
Pain was a reminder that you were alive.
And I was not going to take a moment of my life for granted again.
I cringed as I remembered how many times I’d turned down invitations because there would ‘be another time.’ Or how I talked myself out of something because I was feeling insecure. Or wouldn’t try something new because the anxiety of making a fool of myself prevented me from even trying.
I wasn’t going to do that kind of thing anymore.
“Feel better?” Sage asked half an hour later, slowly bounce-walking toward where I was flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling, my hand pressed to my chest where my heart was leaping.
“I feel very… alive,” I said, sucking in greedy breaths.
“That sounds like a win then, I guess,” Sage decided. “If we head out soon, we could grab something greasy and disgustingly good on the way back to work.”
I used to ruthlessly control my diet. Not to the point of a disorder, but always seeking something resembling balance. If I had the aforementioned apps and margs one night with Sage, then the next day or two, I ate really green and healthy. I had a family history of weight struggles and diabetes, so I, you know, tried to be somewhat healthy.
Those days were behind me now.
“I think I want a burger and nuggets after this workout,” I said, hopping off the trampoline.
“Damn,” Sage said, making me turn back to look at her. “The recoil on that ass is impressive.”
“Almost as impressive as the recoil on your boobs,” I agreed as we both made our way out of the cool, air conditioned room and into the boob-sweaty, humid early afternoon air.
“So what’s your plans for tonight?” Sage asked as she cranked up the air in the car, and turned down the music I’d been blasting before in a desperate attempt to drown out the noise in my head.
She knew now that I didn’t spend any nights alone in my apartment like I used to.
I knew what she thought.
That it was just the grief, that if I was alone at night, I wouldn’t be able to stop crying.
She didn’t know my secret little shame.
That I hadn’t cried yet.
That, as the days passed, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t ever cry.
That wasn’t the kind of thing you could tell someone, though, not even your closest friend. That your brother had died, cut down in the prime of his life, and you hadn’t shed a single tear.
I shook the thought away, refusing to dwell, refusing to think of anything at all but the next thing that needed to be done.
“Tonight is the drag show,” I reminded her.
“I wish I could come to that,” Sage said, lips all pouty. “Stupid obligations.”
“It’s your sister’s birthday,” I reminded her. And whether I meant it to or not, the words were still hanging heavy in the air.
At least you still have a sibling’s party to attend.
“Yeah. I mean, I’d never not go. But it’s Charlotte, y’know?” she said, sighing hard.
You couldn’t get more opposite than Sage and Charlotte. Where Sage was laid-back and satisfied with a small, fun little life, Charlotte was the epitome of an overachiever and as uptight as you could get. She’d attended college with the sole purpose of finding either an old money guy to latch onto, or an ambitious guy intent on becoming the patriarch of a new old money family.