Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“Follow my lead,” I instructed.
Pushing off, I moved her around the empty room, the music barely audible as we twirled and stepped. I looked down at her, something swelling in my throat, and it hurt, but I couldn’t look away, either.
I didn’t need her. I’d made a beautiful family, not just my wife and children, but my friends too. I had everything.
And still, holding her in my arms, I realized something that had been missing. I realized how much I wanted to bring her in closer and hold onto something.
Sometimes I was so tired. I could ask for help, lean on the guys or vent to the women, but I wouldn’t. Not ever.
I wanted to be strong for them. I never wanted Banks to see me scared again, or Rika to see me lose my shit and not be able to handle something.
I never wanted my children to see me as anything less than a man.
I wasn’t sure why, but with Christiane, I didn’t care if I wasn’t the strongest in the room. Even well into my thirties, I had to admit, I kind of still wanted a mom.
A mom might be there for the times you were vulnerable.
Pulling her in closer, I carried her around the floor, hearing her breathe out a laugh as we spun, her feet barely touching the ground the faster I moved.
How strange it was to be a parent. For so many years, I couldn’t see myself in her shoes, and even though I knew I’d do so many things differently if I’d been her, I could at least understand how hard it probably was to be desperate for your child and watch another woman raise him.
Between Christiane, Natalya, and Gabriel, they did everything wrong.
But I was still here.
Banks was still here. Rika was still here. Despite everything, we survived our parents.
Not once had Banks or Rika ever blamed theirs for anything. I had done nothing but blame Christiane for the past decade.
How easily could my own kids turn around and do the same? All this love I had for them, and they could still hate me.
I slowed my feet, a weight settling on my shoulders, and I was so tired all of a sudden.
And scared. She wanted to be more, but she failed. How did I know I wouldn’t? How could I stand there and judge her, acting all high and mighty? No one knew what the future held.
Christiane looked up at me, her smile falling as we stopped, but I didn’t say anything.
Slowly backing away, I left her and headed back into the ballroom, immediately searching for Winter.
The music grated on my ears, and I spotted her talking to Michael and Emmy. I walked for her.
Taking her hand, I saw her smile as she instantly recognized the feel of me and grabbed hold with both of her hands.
“Where’s Octavia?” she asked.
“Treasure hunting with Mads,” I mumbled, pulling her with me without a word or look to the other two. “Come on.”
Without question, she held onto me as I guided her into the foyer, underneath the candlelit chandelier, and to the door to the catacombs.
I pulled open the latch, ushered her inside, and closed it behind us, immediately scooping her into my arms and stepping down the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I need to hold you.”
“You are holding me.”
“You know what I mean,” I said, kissing her lips.
She didn’t press further, just let me carry her into the bath and set her back on her feet. The candlelight extended into the catacombs, the jacuzzi already filled with water and steam rising off the surface.
Reaching over, I turned the knob, the spouts in the ceiling springing to life, and water poured into the small pool in a circle of about twenty different streams, almost like a fountain pouring down.
I tore off my jacket and shirt, dropping them to the floor, followed by the rest of my clothes, and then got to work on Winter. I unlaced the corset and pushed down her dress before peeling off her underthings, leaving the ribbons in her hair.
Heat coursed under my skin at the sight of her, and I pulled her into my arms, lifting her up. “Come here,” I gasped over her lips.
She wrapped her legs around me, and I climbed into the huge bath, the hot water sending chills all over my body.
I sat down, taking her with me, the rain shower falling around us as I hugged her to me and buried my face in her hair.
She tensed, but I just squeezed tighter, trying to feel solid again. I hated doubt, and most of the time I kept busy enough to not let myself worry about my kids, but I didn’t know what I was doing any more than the next person. I could judge the people who raised me all I wanted, but it was me who’d be judged next.