Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Our lawyers attempt to silence us, to contain the conversation as we stand across from each other. I hate that I gave him any emotion at all. But at least I can live knowing I’ve said my piece.
“Enough!” my lawyer finally screams, and the room goes silent apart from heavy breathing. “I think it’s best you and your client leave.”
“Fuck you,” my father snarls, and to my surprise, he tells his own lawyer off as well.
My father shoves his lawyer as he attempts to guide my prick of a parent out of the room. The door opens, and he’s almost gone, almost out of my life.
Before he can leave, I tell him, “You’re right about one thing…”
My father turns around to look me dead in my eyes.
“You never did deserve me.”
With one last glare, the door closes, and I pray it’s the last time I have to see him. I never want to even think of his face again.
I swallow thickly and grab the glass of water in front of me, eagerly drinking it and attempting to calm my racing heart.
“I apologize, Miss Chambers. I was assured your father wanted to end this suit before it began. Had I known—”
I stop Anderson and end his misery. “You don’t know him like I do.” I set the glass down as calmly as I can. “You couldn’t have known, and I don’t care either way.”
“Still, I should have taken—” He attempts another apology, but that’s not what I want in the least.
“I want to press every charge and file every suit,” I tell him with finality. The second I discovered what happened, I demanded it. Apparently, there are steps in place. You can’t simply hit a button and have to try to be “civil” first. But there’s no civility in the life my father leads.
The legs of the chair beside me drag on the floor with a groan, and my lawyer takes the seat and adjusts his tie.
“Miss Chambers… may I?”
“Of course,” I answer, taken aback and unsure where this conversation is going.
“Have you discussed your decision with Mr. Wolf? Ronan, I, um… to be clear. Not the other defendant in your case.”
My throat goes tight with emotion. The first disturbance to what I’ve been feeling all day. A raw ache that reminds me of a different kind of pain. “I have not.”
“It may be best,” he suggests quietly.
I don’t know how to tell him that I don’t think I can. Especially when I know I’ll have to. In order to proceed, I’ll have to see him. We’re two broken people brought into this world with more than we deserved, yet at the same time, lacking the one thing that mattered.
It all feels like it’s just too late. Once you’re aware of how deeply damaged you are, there’s just no way to fix that. Especially not with the person who showed you so clearly that they saw and they were willing to let you go.
Tears prick at the back of my eyes, and I hate how much it hurts. My lawyer hands me a tissue, and I accept, attempting to prevent the tears from falling.
“The sooner, the better,” he tells me quietly. “I believe you’ll need to unblock his number,” he adds, and when I look at him, he cocks a knowing brow.
So he can see, I unblock his number in front of him.
“Good. I’m in touch with his lawyers as well,” he confides in me, as if him being aware that I blocked Ro’s number wasn’t evidence of that.
“I could tell,” I answer wrly.
“I apologize again for today. I was hoping we could end this before it began.”
I only nod, unable to say anything as the past months play back in my mind and torture me further. I gather my purse and coat, and walk mindlessly to my car with my lawyer by my side to ensure no other disturbances.
All the while, I watch myself fall in love in my memories.
Kissing Ro started all of this. And I know I shouldn’t have done it. It set a series of events into motion that can never be undone. Moments that have changed my life forever. I don’t know what will become of me—or of us—but as I sit in the front seat of my car, all of the emotions storm within me.
The most prominent is unworthiness.
How can I possibly talk to him?
How can I look him in the eye and hold his gaze?
“I can’t do this,” I whisper to myself, and a text comes through.
There is a flood of messages before it.
Ronan: I’m sorry. But I’ll do everything I can to fix it.
Fix it… What exactly is it? Does he mean us? The video? The lawsuits?
There is so much that needs to be fixed. Just a moment ago, I would have admitted to being damaged beyond repair. I’ve probably been that way for the better part of a decade.