Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
What we have is poetic.
Which is probably the reason I fell in love with poetry so hard when we started dating.
“You know when you look at me like that, baby, it just makes me wanna marry you faster.” Ryder kisses my left hand on top of the diamond promise ring he put there months ago. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fucking marry you.” He kisses it again. “And see you wear that fluffy white dress thing.” Another kiss. “And then take it off.” This kiss turns into a seductive lick near the base. “And then call you Mrs. Collins all night long while we practice making the shit ton of kids, we’re gonna have.”
--
“God…Ryder…was…intoxicating…” I coo at the same time I helplessly smirk.
“Sounds like it.”
“Everything he said, all the word pictures he painted, the amount of love he poured out of him and into me – daily might I add – was like drowning in constant euphoria. I honestly don’t remember if I ate when things would randomly get tough. And the reason I don’t remember is because when I think of him, I can’t recall consuming anything other than him whenever he was around. And he was constantly around.”
“You know what that sounds like to me?”
“Puppy love?”
“An addiction.”
Seeing her point come to light – and hating that I made it for her like she wanted unintentionally – I simply lean back and lift my glass with the intention to drink yet am unexpectedly distracted by the bubbles.
Once upon a time, that was the word people used to describe me.
I wonder how long it’ll take these to fade.
I wonder if it’ll be faster or slower than I did.
“Do you feel over time that you became dependent on him?”
The champagne loses its appeal pushing me to abandon it back on the table, undrunk. “I think often in relationships when people fall in love, they both grow overly reliant on one another. Especially when you’re super young.”
“Have you ever felt dependent with Xander?”
“No.”
“Wow, I barely finished asking the question before you answered.”
Guilty cringing should occur, yet it doesn’t.
“What about the other men since Ryder? Do you feel you had dependency issues with any of them?”
I hesitate to answer. “No.”
“What do you feel made Ryder special?”
Once more my voice seems to deny my brains instructions to remain neutral and shifts dreaminess into my whisper, “Everything.”
Katherine looks fascinated by me, like I’m an actual patient having a counseling session, rather a friend she asked for a favor.
Crazy how quickly things can unexpectedly turn.
“Interesting…” the clinical hum has me curling my toes in my heels to keep my composure. “And how did the two of you end?”
Crazy as I know it sounds, sometimes I’m not sure we ever did. Watching the fire of our relationship starve for oxygen to continue to grow nearly killed me. The things that happened, things that even ten years later I find myself looking for justifications to forgive what should be unforgivable, were flames, burning more than our skin, leaving more than scars, severing our vitality. By the end of our final time together, I wasn’t sure there was even an ember left. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if the wind blew on it just right. Would a spark be found?
Would a fire roar to life again?
Would I?
Her fingers move towards her glass at the same time she investigates, “Did you actually end?”
I remain silent.
“This only works if you talk to me, darling.”
The waiter arrives for a third time to attempt to take our order only to be hushed by a raised hand. She pauses the recording, insists she’ll flag him down when we’re ready or need anything, and to please give us a bit of privacy for the time being.
As soon as the door is shut with him on the other side, she presses the button again. “I need you to answer some of these questions.”
“I am answering your questions.”
“I just asked two and neither received a thing.”
“That’s because I don’t have answers to those!”
Surprised by my response, she tilts her head.
“I mean like logically, yes. The two of us…stopped…dating and seeing each other romantically or whatever…but to ask me how we ended…and if we ended is…too…complex of a question for me to fathom a response to.”
“Okay,” Katherine politely backs down. “Let’s reroute the conversation. I’m assuming at some point you saw him with other girls.”
The words – even a decade later – cause a sting to my system that has my hand twitching for the untouched bread.
“Other females relishing in the love that was once yours.”
“No one had Ryder’s love like I did. Yeah, there were imitators. Imposters. Wishers. However, no one replaced me. No one could have what we had together.”
“Do you remember the first time you saw one of those in his arms?”
I do.
I wish I didn’t.