Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
The man has no damn right to look so mouth-wateringly good while I’m miserable.
Maybe it’s just one fraction of the payback for doing what I’ve done.
“I expected a response from you,” I whisper, my eyes finding his after sweeping the length of his body.
“You expect a lot from me these days,” he responds, and I don’t think it would feel worse if he slapped me in the face.
His face is a mask of indifference. It’s nothing like the sly looks I got when we were younger, nor the salacious ones he gave me after knowing what I feel like to come with him inside of me.
“I do,” I say with a nod, my eyes dropping to the floor because it hurts to look at him. “I want so much from you.”
“You want me to stand aside while you raise my child alone.”
I’m shaking my head before he can finish his words.
I lift my eyes to his once again, drawing an ounce of bravery from somewhere deep inside of me.
“I want all of it from you. I want babies and marriage and—”
“People don’t do that if they’re not in love, Jules. That’s the formula for toxicity.”
“It’s—” I have to swallow again, the threat of sobs making my throat want to close up. “It has always been you. I’m stupid for not realizing that sooner. I’m so sorry for trapping you with a child. I didn’t expect…”
I shake my head because what I was going to say is just another excuse.
“I’m not trapped, Jules.”
Is he giving himself an out? Is this when he tells me that he’s going to give me exactly what he thinks I still want, an absent man and no expectations?
“It’s you I think of when I’m happy,” I continue, hoping that I’m reading his response wrong. “When I’m sad I think if Kit were here, I wouldn’t feel this way. For years, it’s been like that. It’s not a new thing. When I’m bored, I want to text you or call you. After my mother died, I hurt you, and I can blame the overabundance of emotions on how I reacted, but please know I didn’t want to pull away from you. I cherished that kiss, but I couldn’t let things go further. I couldn’t risk losing Beth after my mother’s sudden death.”
A sob bubbles up from my throat, and even though I see his hand clench at his side as if he wants to console me, he doesn’t move to make it happen.
“What are you saying?”
I shake my head, needing a second to foster just a little more bravery.
“Jules?”
I look up at him.
“What are you saying?”
There’s a challenge in his eyes, and I don’t know how to read it. Either he needs me to say the words to move him into action, or he’s getting ready to reject me like I did him so many years ago, and that would be the icing on the cake wouldn’t it? He can easily turn the tables and leave me broken like I did him. He left for eight years after that, and I was miserable. I’ve been miserable so long without him, and the taste I got, the love we made and the time we spent together, will end up being torture because I’ll be well aware of what I’ve lost.
My hands are trembling when I bring them up to rest on my stomach, and the man waits me out. He watches me silently as I try to decide whether I should speak my final truth.
“I love you,” I tell him, nodding because I feel a sense of pride being able to say it.
I can’t walk away from him today without putting all my cards on the table. If he rejects me it will be with full understanding of everything.
“Love?” His face changes, but still remains unreadable. “You’re in love with me?”
“Yes.”
“Babies and marriage kind of love?”
I swallow again, my head dipping for a nod.
Kit has never been a sadistic man. He’s kind and caring, compassionate, and understanding. He’s the type to go out of his way to make others feel warm, welcomed, and loved, but I’ve hurt him, possibly changed a visceral part of him.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Took you long enough.”
Unbidden, tears start to stream down my cheeks.
“I can’t imagine spending another second apart from you,” I sob.
I lift my hand to dash my tears from my cheeks, but he catches it in his, stepping so close, I have to look up at him.
“If that’s the case, then why are you standing in the hallway instead of stripping naked and crawling into my bed?”
I shake my head, that dark part inside of me still not getting a full read on this situation. Does he think that’s all I want or maybe that’s all he wants from me?