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)
“Yeah, not exactly my finest hour,” I mumble, feeling shitty about those things, even now.
Soberly reliving the way that I dragged three people through the mud because my pride was hurt has me wondering what sort of bread I have in the kitchen.
“And maybe they deserved what I said.”
She immediately nods in agreement.
“And maybe they didn’t.”
Her face scrunches in obvious disagreement.
“Nonetheless, what I know is that I shouldn’t have said it. That’s not the kind of person I was. That’s not the kind of person I ever wanted to be. Even if I did feel all those things, or even if all those things were true, no one deserves their mistakes laid out for an audience then used like a weapon of mass destruction to destroy their reputation, their self-esteem, and their self-worth. I know that there’s a possibility that maybe the wounds didn’t cut deep, but I also know there’s an even bigger possibility that they did. Actively hurting people isn’t me. Wasn’t me.”
“You accused Ryder of being two different people, but maybe he wasn’t the only one doing that.”
My shoulders instantly drop.
“Maybe you lashed out so hard when you found out about Ryder and Blaze living double lives, because you didn’t want the attention on you for doing the same thing. You were being two different people. You were being the ‘good girl’ everyone was expecting you to be. The virtuous virgin who wouldn’t utter an unkind word no matter how much she was pushed. The same one who bottled up her feelings and began to eat all the anger the world told her wasn’t okay to see.”
Nibbling on my inner cheek is done to resist the urge to flee.
To get crackers or an oatmeal cream pie I’m pretty sure I hid behind a box of Raisin Bran.
“And then you were also the lost girl that you didn’t want anyone to see. Curious and scared. Confused and clever. You were already pushing your honesty morals with the constant lying to sneak around with Ryder and then that party, that moment Carmen revealed everything was a breaking point. Not only were you living a lie, a lie you were keeping from your best friend, you were also no better than the people you were so livid at. You weren’t the saint you were trying to make yourself out to be, but you need to know that you don’t have to atone for that ‘sin’ now, darling. It’s okay to be imperfect.” She adjusts her tone to a much softer one. “It’s okay to be lost and learning even now.”
I let my head fall backwards on closed eyes.
How are things truly any different at this point in my life?
No, I don’t sneak around behind Xander’s back having an affair with someone – Ry was the only one I cheated for –, but I stand in front of his co-workers and mine with the facade that Xander is someone he is not.
That I am someone I’m not.
That we are a couple in love when we’re so, so not.
Just because we share a united front doesn’t make the lie that we’re living any less true.
I squeeze my eyes tighter shut at the same time I realize I haven’t grown up as much as I thought.
I’m still behaving like the woman everyone is expecting me to be on the outside and that lost little girl wondering what the hell to really do with her life on the inside.
Chapter 7
Ryder
-“You were my family when it felt like I had no one else.”-
Finally to the point where the burn in my lungs outweighs the bitterness in my brain, I collapse into one of the Paradise pool chairs.
Thankfully, the area is empty.
No plastic people with their plastic excuses.
No staff trying to stick their staff where I know their contract forbids them to put it.
Fuck, there’s not even a bird in the sky to overhear singing a love song to its mate for whatever reason.
Most likely a chirp of penance.
A pleading for forgiveness.
I slouch further into the gray seat, close my eyes, and give my damp strands a harsh pull.
Fuck, it wasn’t until Doc really went digging that I realized I’d fucked up even more at that time of my life than I previously thought. Yeah, of course I remember the big shit. It’s all the little shit that’s been creeping up on me that’s making it harder than it already is to sleep.
And eat.
And fucking breathe.
Drugs can and do fuck up your ability to remember shit. I know for a fact that’s true. Fuck, there are gaps in my memories at random places over the last few years where I should remember what I did or who I was doing it with and fucking can’t. Like remembering that I left the club with a stripper but having no clue how I ended up at a lake house alone three days later only wearing one fucking shoe. Those moments while scary, I can easily chalk up to whatever I was fucked up on at the time or even just being on a bender mixed with sleep deprivation.