Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“It’s good for your sanity, too.”
Hmm... It surprised me that a man I’d originally worried would make me insane was concerned for my sanity. I must’ve stared at his ridiculously perfect face for too long as I pondered that.
“What?” he asked.
“I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop with you,” I admitted.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’ve been patient, fairly respectful aside from busting my balls, and generally nice to me. There’s not much to hate as of late.”
“Are you looking for reasons to hate me?”
“Not at all. This process is much easier if we’re getting along.”
“Maybe you drew the wrong conclusions about me from the get-go. Did you ever think of that?”
“Maybe I did…about certain things. Although, the truth is, we’ve been living together for a couple of weeks now and getting along just fine. But at the same time, I still don’t feel like I know you. Who we are when we’re living in this situation and who we are outside of here are probably two different things.”
“Getting to know each other isn’t a requirement of the job, Carly. But I don’t have anything to hide. You can ask me whatever you want.”
Ask him whatever I want. That was an invitation I couldn’t refuse. I took a deep breath and unleashed the question that had been eating at me for years.
“What was it about my face that bugged you?”
Josh’s eyes widened, then fell to the ground. “You went right for the jugular there, I see.”
My blood was pumping. “You think I’m ugly or something? Is that why you said it?”
“No,” he replied immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“That’s not something people typically say—that someone’s face bugs them.”
“You shouldn’t have taken it personally.”
“How does one not take that personally? It’s my fucking face!” I yelled.
“It didn’t mean anything, Carly, as hard as that may be to believe. I was just being a shithead. I liked to give Brad grief about a lot of things. He’d just started dating you, and I made a dumb comment. There’s not much more to it than that.”
“You still haven’t answered my question, though. That was a very specific insult. There was a reason you thought to say it. You just don’t want to admit it.” I felt my cheeks burn in frustration. “So much for this conversation.”
His ears were red as he finally looked me in the eyes. “You want me to lie and say it was because I thought you were ugly just to give you an answer?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I can’t change my face, you know.”
“Jesus, Carly. It wasn’t about your face at all.”
Chills ran down my spine as he moved closer.
“It wasn’t about my face? Then why the hell did you mention my face? Now you’re confusing me.”
Josh expelled a long breath and looked up at the ceiling. “When Brad showed me your picture, you reminded me of someone I didn’t want to be reminded of. That’s the only reason I said what I did.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Who?”
You could hear a pin drop before he finally spoke.
“You reminded me of my mother in that picture.”
I blinked. “Your mother?”
“You don’t even look that much like her, but there was something about your expression in that photo—your face. That’s why I said it. I never even explained that to Brad. He just thought I was being a dick, I’m sure. He never asked me why I’d said it.”
My mouth dropped. “Well, that’s a bit…fucked up.”
He crossed his arms. “You think?”
I didn’t know what to say. I’d reminded him of his mother? The one who’d cheated on his dad with his uncle. The one who abandoned him. At least his comment made a little more sense now. Not knowing what he’d meant had bothered me for far too long.
“Well, thank you for your honesty.”
“I couldn’t have you go on thinking there was something wrong with your face,” he said. “That would’ve been more fucked up than I am.”
“You’re not fucked up because you have trauma from your mom. And you don’t have to tell me anything more. You answered my question. We can drop the subject.”
He exhaled and started to pace. “There’s not much to tell. Our mother decided a long time ago that her life was better off without her husband and kids. Being back in Woodsboro is never easy for me, but especially now that Brad is gone. This place, and the Longos, were always my distraction from my home life. I always felt wanted here.”
“Your dad didn’t handle things well, I take it?”
He stopped pacing and turned to face me. “He did the best he could, but he was always depressed. He’s better now. But back then my brothers and I had to fend for ourselves for the most part, while also looking out for him. That’s why I was always over here. It was my escape, my way of handling it—by pretending to be part of another family. Then after Yvonne died, that was a whole different kind of loss. It was worse than my mother leaving, to be honest.”