Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He merely shrugs as I slide in and place the food containers in the passenger seat.
Lan waves at me while I pull out from my parents-in-law’s house. As I listen to cello performances by a Finnish soloist, Lan’s words keep playing in the back of my head.
It’s true that I had many questions after I caught Eli and even Sam in a lie, but I chose to ignore said discrepancies for the sake of my peace of mind.
Lan implied whether or not the truth is worth sacrificing my current stability.
A few months ago, I would’ve always gone for the truth, but right now as I stare at my wedding band and think of everything that comes with it, I’m not sure if that’s the right solution.
Why is my truth more important than the suffering of those around me? My parents, Ari, Cecy, Aunt Elsa, and even Sam and Leo, who have been nothing but kind to me.
Eli as well. I don’t think it’s fair to put him through my embarrassing episodes. He has no obligation to take care of me since we’re not in a real marriage.
My music comes to a halt as none other than my husband’s name flashes on the screen.
I pick up with, “Speak of the devil. Miss me, darling?”
“Are you driving?” His clipped tone fills the car with a coat of tension.
“Yeah.”
“Why the fuck—” He cuts himself off and speaks slowly as if he’s addressing a child. “Pull over this instant and call a black cab. If they take too long, I’ll come to pick you up.”
“Um, no? I can drive on my own just fine.”
“Pull the fuck over, Ava!”
I startle, my fingers clenching around the steering wheel.
Eli never yells at me. Ever. Not even when I thought he would at the height of my provocations.
I indicate to the left and pull over, then put the car in park, mostly because I’m shaking too hard to be driving.
My ears ring and I hear my name being called as if it’s coming from underground.
An image passes through my head in a flash. I’m slumped against the side of the car.
Crimson stains mar every inch of my skin, coating my hands and thighs with a slick, sticky film. I can feel sticky blood beneath my nails and over the pads of my fingers. The bright red pools on the ground, forming an abstract canvas in the dim light of the street. My breaths come in ragged gasps as I try to steady myself, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. It’s as if the blood has seeped into every corner of my being, smearing me inside and out.
“Ava!” Eli’s booming voice echoes in my ear, but I can’t look up from the blood on my hands.
Oh no.
What have I done?
What have I—
“Ava?”
I lift my head and look at the distorted, blurry version of Eli’s handsome face.
“Give me your hand,” he orders in a firm voice.
I shake my head frantically. “Blood…blood…”
“Look at me. Hey, look at me. Focus on me. That’s it. Good girl. Breathe. Mimic me and breathe properly. In…out…in…out… You’re doing great, beautiful. Now I want you to take my hand, okay?”
My shaky fingers lift up, and the scraping of my heels on the asphalt echo like a bomb in the eerie silence.
Eli pulls me into his embrace and everything turns black.
29
ELI
Fuck.
Bloody fucking hell.
Fuck!
Henderson brings the car to an abrupt halt right across from Ava’s, and I fling the door open before it properly stops and jog to the vehicle.
She went completely silent on the phone after I told her to pull over, so I had Henderson follow her phone’s GPS and bring us here at the speed of light.
The last thing my wife should do is drive. She’s not fit to do so by any stretch of the imagination. Worse, it’s a triggering factor.
Mum and Dad should’ve made sure she got into the car with a fucking driver, not on her own. If Landon hadn’t told me, I would’ve probably found her in a ditch by now.
The tightness in my steps matches that of my chest the closer I approach the car. I pause by the door and inhale a large gulp of air, readying myself for the disaster Sam, Henderson, Ariella, Cecily, and even Dad told me was coming.
The disaster of my own making.
Cold air bites into my skin as the residential area’s faint lighting casts an ominous halo on the black car.
I dip my head and pause when I find Ava slumped on the steering wheel, turned away from me, her blonde hair spilling in silky waves that mimic a fallen angel’s.
The faint sound of a cello filters through the closed window with the smoothness of a haunting lullaby.
I pull on the handle. Locked.
Fuck.
This is the worst case of déjà vu.
The last time she was slumped and unresponsive by a car was when I tethered her to me and bound her to my side forever.