Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Thinking of the calendar makes me also think of Morgan's Halloween party, and as I leave the room, I have every intention of inviting my husband to join me.
Voices coming from the conference room make me pause rather than heading right into the kitchen.
"It's not the best idea," Ellis says, but I have no idea who he's speaking to. "It's not like she can stay here forever."
"You don't have to be so hasty." I recognize Rooster's voice. He's the guy I've spoken to the most because it seems like he's the one who never leaves the house as his work is all tech and computer-related.
"It's not being hasty. I think it's time to go."
All of those tiny holes he has managed to fill break open once again, leaving behind more damage than Troy ever could've caused. I let my guard down. I allowed myself to imagine that he was different, that we were somehow meant to be, that our meeting and marriage were kismet somehow and always meant to be.
I couldn't be more wrong, and the pain of this realization slices at me, adding a thousand tiny cuts to my skin.
I turn to leave, knowing I can easily run up the stairs, pack my limited belongings, and leave. I don't have to stick around, giving him more opportunity to drive the knife harder into my back.
"Kaylee?"
I spin to face him, the threat of tears burning the backs of my eyes. For some reason, I force a smile to my lips because it's what comes as second nature to me, hiding the pain, that is.
He doesn't look annoyed to see me there. If anything, his smile is wide, and then it hits me. He's worse than Troy. My ex had a hard time hiding his true emotions. If he was upset, he didn't waste a breath lying about it. If he didn't like something, the opinion rushed from his lips whether prompted or not.
"Hey," I manage, my voice not working the way I want it to.
I feel like letting him see my pain would only be another mark in his win category, and I can only take so many strikes against me before crumpling to the floor and sobbing like a baby. I've done that in the past, so I know it doesn't help any situation.
I straighten my spine when I notice the shadow at his back, and as if they weren't just talking about getting rid of me, Rooster smiles in my direction as well.
"Good morning, Kaylee," Rooster says.
Their smiles are like poisonous darts being embedded in my skin, but when Ellis walks up to me and wraps his arms around my waist, I curl into his embrace one last time. If there's anything that I've learned over the years, it's that I can be just as fake as I need to be until l have the chance to walk away.
Chapter 31
Heathen
That always positive voice in my head is taking a hit today.
She's smiling and I've heard a handful of laughs come from her, but she isn't happy. She's faking it. With every stupid joke that Rooster tells over coffee while I'm cooking the two of us breakfast, I can sense her fake happiness waning.
She's counting the seconds until she can escape, and I have no idea why I'm postponing the inevitable.
I knew she was awake last night when I climbed into bed with her. There was no missing the jolt in her body when I reached out and wrapped my arms around her.
I should've kept my fucking mouth shut instead of ruining everything, instead of just letting it all work itself out. My confession put a clock on her being here, and now, in the light of day, it wasn't as good of an idea as it felt like it was last night when I was four drinks deep.
I grind my molars together with my back to her when I hear her flat chuckle again.
"Do you not feel well?" Rooster asks, finally fucking catching on that she isn't exactly interested in his stupid jokes and banter.
"I'm fine," she says, but the silence between them now is thick and heavy with her lie.
Whispered confessions never work. They always blow up in your face. I don't know why I thought things would be different with her.
She didn't want this marriage, and as turned on as she can be for me, that doesn't equate to a life together. I am such a fool.
It still doesn't hedge the urge to drop to my knees in front of her and beg her to stay, to assure her that I can make her happy. I consider telling her that she owes me at least a week or a month to prove how good our lives can be together, but I didn't marry her with conditions. Helping her doesn't give me the right to demand anything else from her. If anything, doing it makes me just as bad as the men who treat women like possessions. Still, those thoughts enter my head, making me feel like just as big a piece of shit as that Troy guy.