Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Her eyes watered, her lips trembled, her mind trying to keep up.
“No crying on your birthday.”
“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to. Besides, they’re happy tears.”
Those three words.
Those three goddamn words sent me spiraling back to when I was seven-years-old.
“Why would I want to make you cry?”
“Because they’re happy tears and crying with happy tears is like super romantic.”
“Aiden?”
“Oh… Okay then. I’ll ask you in a way that will make you cry happy tears.”
“Aiden?”
“Okay good, but don’t make me cry in any other way than happy tears. Ever. You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Aiden!”
My eyes locked with Camila’s, jolting me to the present.
“Where did you go? Are you okay?”
Was I okay?
What are you doing, Aiden?
I handed her the bag, trying to focus on the woman in front of me and not the one fucking with my mind.
“Put this on for me.”
“You didn’t have to get me—”
“For fuck’s sake! Just for once, say thank you!”
She jerked back, earning her a growl from deep within my chest.
“Are you okay? What just happ—”
I abruptly turned, fighting like hell to collect my composure. “I’ll be outside.”
Before she could reply, I walked out of the room, needing some air.
“Fuck. What am I doing?”
I was over playing the back and forth between us. I wanted her to know how I felt, what I wanted, but I couldn’t for the life of me get over the betrayal plaguing my mind for my wife.
Pushing through the double doors, I made my way out to the balcony over-looking downtown. I rested my elbows against the railing, holding my pounding head between my hands. It was still so fucking hard to let Cami in.
Was I ready?
I constantly fought the emotions of what felt fucking right and fucking wrong. The angel and demon effect. A part of me wanted to suffer, to hurt, to show my wife she truly was my world.
A world I would now walk through alone.
And then another part of me wanted to move on. To stop living in the past and forget the things I couldn’t change.
I wanted to be set free.
It was an endless battle in my heart.
I wanted my world to become Camila. I wanted her to be the center of it all.
If I didn’t open up to her, I was going to lose her for a woman who was no longer in my life. I understood where she was coming from, my thoughts were a mystery to her. A puzzle she was so desperately trying to put together. I never shared anything with her, and yet I still demanded to know everything about her. It wasn’t fair.
To her.
To my kids.
To myself.
I wanted to know her secrets, and a huge part of me wanted her to know mine.
There weren’t many things that could shock me. I’d seen and experienced it all.
But this…
Falling in love with Camila.
Was fucking earth shattering.
As soon as she stepped out onto the balcony, I saw her from the corner of my eye.
She was stunning.
I would be lying if I said her presence didn’t make me feel more at ease, though it was her appearance that left me breathless.
“You look beautiful, Cami. So fuckin’ beautiful.”
She gestured to the white, tight fitting dress that went passed her knees. “How did you know my size?”
“I was the one who put away your clothes, remember? Both in and out of your suitcase.”
She narrowed her sparkling eyes at me, surprised I’d admitted that.
In three strides, I was standing in front of her, grabbing her hand. The mere touch of her skin calmed me in more ways than one.
Exactly how I knew it would.
“Let’s get out of here.”
We started the night off with dinner and drinks at a fancy Venezuelan restaurant one of my patient’s family owned downtown.
“Me gustaría una copa de vino blanco.”
Let me tell you, hearing her speak Spanish to the waiter was as fucking sexy as it was sinful.
I could sense her resolve was as conflicted as mine, and I hated it. I loathed being the reason for her turmoil. It was her birthday, and I was going to make sure she enjoyed it anyway I could.
“Si, muchas gracias.”
“Eres linda, mi amor, linda,” the waiter emphasized, making her blush.
“The fuck was that?” I snapped, when he walked away.
“Nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.”
“Maybe you should learn Spanish and then you’d know.”
“I don’t need to learn Spanish, I have you.”
She giggled in that girly way that made my cock twitch.
“Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to ask him.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Ma’am, could you get our wai—”
“Oh my god!” She tore my arm down. “He said I was pretty.”
“You’re not pretty, Cami. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”
She bit her lip.
“So, mi amor,” I repeated what the waiter said. “Have you always spoken Spanish, linda?”
“Look at you. You even tried to accentuate, Dr. Pierce. I like you speaking my native tongue. I learned Spanish before I learned English. I didn’t speak a word of English until elementary school, where I was required to use it. The kids use to tease me relentlessly because of the way I spoke and looked. I hated going until I was probably in junior high. I had to change a few things about myself to be accepted, and in the end, it worked out.”