Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Which begs the question … why?
He’s always said he loved me. I believed it, and I still do, but I can’t help but think Mom and Dad are keeping a secret just for the sake of me … and it’s slowly ripping them apart.
“Please …” I say. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Nothing,” Dad reiterates. “Your mom and I just don’t always agree on things that involve you.”
“Why?”
His lips part but nothing comes out except a sigh. “Let’s just all enjoy our meals, okay?”
“No.” I lean back in my chair. “I want to know what this is about. Why Mom always keeps hammering on about me getting a better job while you try your best to avoid the subject.”
Not just that, but he’s avoiding looking at me too.
“I want you to be happy,” he says.
“I am,” I say. “I think.”
“See?” Mom sputters, so I throw her a glance.
“The point is, she doesn’t want you to hook her up,” Dad says while glaring at Mom.
“I wouldn’t need to if you’d just been—”
“Meredith,” Dad interrupts. His face has gone rigid. “Don’t. Not now. Please.”
She gives him the look. That look. The one that speaks volumes, but I never know what it means.
“Never mind,” I say, scooting back my chair. “I see this was a mistake.”
“What? Honey, no.” Mom tries to grab my hand. “Please, come sit with us.”
“We’re just trying to do our best,” Dad says.
“No, can you both just be honest for once?” I ask, grabbing my purse.
Neither of them speak. All they do is silently stare at their plates.
I wish I could say that I knew my parents. That I had a strong bond with them, and that they understood me. That they gave me everything I needed, all the love in the world. But all I know is strict rules, reprimands, and silence.
That’s all they could ever do.
No explanations. No answers. Nothing.
Just as always, I’m left with disappointment.
I shake my head as tears well up in my eyes. “I have to go.”
“Honey? Wait!” Mom says, clenching the table.
But I’ve already marched out the dining room.
Behind me, I can hear them argue about me. I don’t listen anymore. I close my mind like I always did when I was living here with them.
And without saying goodbye to either of them, I leave the house.
Melvin chases after me, though. “Miss Mayer, please …”
I stop in my tracks and wait, letting out a breath. He should go inside. Give up. It’s too late to mend this. Too late to fix what was broken long ago.
“Your parents mean well. They only want the best for you.”
“It’s hard to believe that when they’re never interested in what I do or what I like. All they want to do is to push me in a direction I don’t want to go.”
“They’re trying to protect you,” he says, clearing his throat. “They always have.”
Against what? The world? Each other?
At this point, I don’t think I even wanna know.
“Right,” I scoff. “Because I’m their only child.”
“Because they love you,” he says.
My eyes turn toward the pavement as I say, “Thanks for the food, Mel. It was delicious.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Tell my parents I’m sorry,” I add, before I continue walking.
I can’t face him. Or them.
Not when I feel like this. Like I’m missing something without knowing what it is.
So I continue my stride until the house disappears from my view and out of my mind.
Chapter 8
Kat
Work was a whirlwind of deadlines and meetings. Crystal was sick today, so I had to take over some of her tasks too.
By the time I finally get home, I’m left wondering if I even got anything done at all. After I throw my keys on the kitchen counter, I fix some nachos and dip to eat along with drinking some hard-earned wine while I settle behind my laptop. I need some downtime. Some fun. Something to take the edge off things.
So I open the browser and go to the familiar website, searching the chat for D. But he’s not online. He wasn’t online the evening I came home from my parents either. In fact, I haven’t seen him online in days.
Is something going on in his life? Or is it something else?
I tap my fingers on the keyboard. What if he’s done playing? What if he’s done with me?
I’d hate for that to happen, but at the same time, I’d understand. After all, there comes a point when you just get too attached to a person. Something we should avoid at all costs when it comes to having sex with strangers we’ve met online.
Still … I can’t help but wonder if he blocked me. Maybe he did. After all, I said it was a one-time meeting only. Sex in a hotel bedroom without ever seeing or hearing from each other again.
I gave him the choice. He made the decision. Yet … when I think about it, I’m not at all happy with the outcome. For some reason, I wanted more. More of what we had. More dirt. More play. More … of him.