Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“What the fuck, Indie …” he whispers while his eyes redden and his fingers dive into my hair, holding me captive. “What did you do? You don’t get to leave this fucking world while I’m still in it. Do you understand?”
Tears burn my eyes. “I-I didn’t. I was just so angry and hurt and …” I try to shake my head despite his hold on me. “I didn’t try to kill myself.”
Milo swallows hard, slowly shaking his head. He doesn’t believe me.
“It was…” I fight to get the words past the lump in my throat “…too much. The dress. The makeup. She had them cut m-my hair.” I swallow my tears. “And you said ‘I-I d-do.’” I sniffle while my lower lip quivers. “And you k-kissed her. And it was too much.”
“No, Indie girl …” His thumb brushes along my bottom lip. “It’s not too much. You are the strongest person I know. The brightest person.” He smiles. “The best person. We find a way.”
“A way to what?”
His posture slumps. “I don’t know yet, just … a way.”
I’m not strong. He’s the strong one. I don’t know how to hold on to hope when everything feels impossible.
“I can’t stay.”
His brows slide together. “I know.” He kisses me.
My fingers curl into fists, clenching his shirt. I don’t ever want to let go.
“I have…” he pulls away, breathless “…to get back.”
I rub my lips together, staring at his while nodding. Then I crash my mouth to his again. My hands tug at his belt. It’s so quick, I don’t even try to think, and neither does Milo while his hands shove my sweatpants and underwear past my butt. His foot lifts to the crotch and rips them down my legs. I step out of them while releasing him from his briefs.
It’s too quick.
I can’t think.
I can’t speak.
I can only feel.
And what I feel is need as strong as the demand for my next breath. Milo lifts me, pressing my back to the wall next to the sewing table. My legs encircle his waist, and he drives into me.
The world has fucked us over and over. It’s time to fuck the world and everyone who won’t let us be together.
I tug his hair while one of his hands skates up my shirt. He rocks into me over and over. It’s not enough. Not close enough. Not fast enough. Not deep enough. This moment will never be long enough. The need eats me alive. I want him … all of him. Always.
“I love you,” I whisper in his ear after I orgasm.
Milo pistons into me several more times, and I know it’s the last time we will be together like this. The unfairness of life has never felt as unbearable as it does now.
I love him.
He loves me.
Why isn’t that enough?
“Fuuuck … I love … you … Indie girl.” He lifts his head and stares at me while our hot breaths mingle.
He doesn’t move.
I didn’t have sex with Jolene’s husband. I had sex with my Milo. There will never be a day that it’s wrong for him to be inside me. He’s mine as much as that beating organ behind my chest is mine … an integral part of who I am. The reason I’m alive.
“Milo?” Jolene calls.
“He might have gone upstairs, ma’am,” one of the catering crew says.
Silently, Milo eases me to my feet. It’s an instant, excruciatingly painful loss. He pulls up his jeans while I step back into my sweatpants.
Milo reaches for the waist of my pants and pulls them the rest of the way up my legs, taking his time to tie the drawstring. Even now, when we are out of time, he steals extra seconds to dress me. Care for me. Love me.
There is no pretending that everything is okay or ever will be okay. I don’t even try to keep the tears from running down my face. I don’t try to steady my hands while they rest on his forearms. The most I can do is bite my lips together to silence the sobs.
This is a death. My heart feels just as devastated and lost as it did the day Ruthie died. I love Milo with my whole heart. What’s its purpose if he’s not with me? When all it wants to do is love him?
After he runs his hands through his hair, he frames my face again and ducks his head, lips at my ear. “Be free. I know this hurts, baby. It hurts so much. Be everything you were meant to be.” His lips drag along my cheek to my mouth.
He blots my tears, and my hands rest over his while I shake and choke on a sob before whispering, “Yours. I’m meant to b-be y-yours.”
Milo’s face scrunches, jaw clenched, and he nods several times. With one last kiss, he turns and cracks open the door. When it’s clear, he steps out and shuts it.