Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Koen laughs. It’s reserved, but it’s a real laugh, nonetheless. “Thank you, Scottie. I hope you like me half as much as you like my Scrotum.”
I giggle. “I love you.”
“I love you too. So much. I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m just …”
Well, damn.
Now he’s making me cry.
“You’re just human. Goodnight,” I say with my emotions in a chokehold.
“Are you wearing skinny jeans?” Price’s jaw hangs in the air when I climb into his Honda.
“I’m giving them a test run.”
He laughs. “Why?”
“I decided it’s time for a change. I’ve had them for years. My sister got them for me, and I’ve never had the heart to get rid of them. So here they are, making their uncomfortable debut on my ass. I hope this comedian is funny because I need something to take my mind off my visible panty line.”
“I was joking about second base. You know that, right? You didn’t have to wear these for me.” He shoots me a quick glance after pulling onto the main road.
“Do you think Koen will like them?”
“What I think is that I need to have a talk with him if your relationship has made you think you need to be something different than exactly who you are to impress him, to keep him.”
“I clearly needed to be someone different to keep you.”
He lets up on the gas and pulls to the side of the road. “Excuse me?”
I cross my arms, but I don’t look at him. “Just go. We’re going to miss the show.”
“All of a sudden, I don’t care about the show. Scottie, I didn’t leave you. You let me go. You made the world’s best case for why it wasn’t our time. And I trusted you because I thought you were emotionally more mature than me.”
“You didn’t look back.”
He stabs his fingers through his hair. “I-I was driven, and you were grounded. In hindsight, I needed you. But I wanted something else more. And I thought you wanted your path as much as I wanted mine.”
The second my tears release, I bat them away.
“But, Scottie, I wouldn’t have ended us. Everything with you felt perfect. And when you broke up with me, I realized how distorted my perception of perfection was. After all, who walks away from perfection?”
I sniffle, but I still can’t look at him. “Loving you made no sense. We could not have been more opposite. But it just felt …”
“It did,” he whispers.
Finally, I turn to him, slowly nodding.
“I would have destroyed us,” he says.
I try not to react, but my brow twitches anyway.
He rubs the tension from his neck. “My dreams were too big. I would have tried to make my dreams your dreams, and I would have crushed your soul. I would have taken everything that made you … you. And I would have turned it into dust. But you would have loved me enough to let it happen. When you broke up with me, I was heartbroken, but I was so proud of you for not compromising. You were nineteen. That was way too early to compromise, to bargain for a lesser life.”
“Jesus, Price.” I stare out the window. “I hardly think you’ve lived a lesser life.”
“I gave up what mattered most. And now I’m paying for it.”
Did I matter most?
“We’re going to miss the show.”
He looks at his watch. “Too late.”
“I’ll walk back home.” I open the door.
“Scottie?”
Nope. I can’t do this. Speed-walking down the street, I wipe more tears.
“Scottie!” He jogs after me.
“Go home, Price.”
“Let’s grab dinner. I know you haven’t eaten.”
“Dinner?” I whip around. “What are you going to have? Juice? Are you going to share your juice with me? I haven’t seen you eat solid foods in weeks, and you’re orange. You’re goddamn orange!”
He deflates.
I shake my head a half dozen times. “I don’t want to know.” Pivoting, I jog.
He jogs.
So I run.
He runs.
My vision blurs behind the tears. No matter how hard I run, I know I can’t outrun this, but it doesn’t stop me from trying. When I reach my trailer, I stop at the door, feeling him a few feet behind me, hearing his labored breaths chasing mine.
“You’re sick,” I whisper with my back to him.
There’s a long pause.
“Yes.”
I’ve known it since the day he came into the store. But Price is the one person who makes me question my feelings, my instincts, my intuition. Nobody likes to be wrong, but I’ve wanted to be so wrong about this.
“Cancer?” I barely get the word out before my heart lurches into my throat.
“Yes.”
My eyes pinch shut, and my body shakes in silent sobs. This isn’t happening. No. It’s not right. It’s not fair.
Slowly, I turn around, hand cupped over my mouth. Tears spring from my aching eyes. “Oh god, Price … w-what am I s-supposed to d-do?”
His arms slide around my waist, holding me to him, lips pressing to the top of my head. “Burn the skinny jeans.”