Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 188966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Ever since the day Aslan performed CPR on me from the stupid net incident, my father had lost any aversion he might have had to Aslan and I becoming close. If fact, he actively encouraged it. He basically assigned Aslan as my bodyguard, tutor, and guardian angel.
And Aslan accepted his duties with steadfast determination and commitment, just like he did everything else.
It got to the point where the butterflies in my stomach whenever I was around Aslan became furious moths instead.
His possessiveness started to grate on me.
His constant watching made me want to rebel.
And not because I didn’t want to be watched by him, but because he watched me for all the wrong reasons. He didn’t watch me like I watched him. He didn’t linger on my mouth or shift nervously if I caught him staring.
To him, I was a fragile child that could, at any moment, attempt to die again, and it was up to him to prevent that from happening...all because my parents had asked him to.
I knew better than to point out that his undying loyalty to my parents might not be entirely healthy. I tried to encourage him to live his life and not just the one they offered.
In the years he lived with us, he never did anything for himself.
Never sought out his own interests or requested time off.
Never spoke of dreams he might have had or goals he wanted to achieve.
It was as if he took his illegal status to mean he had to live entirely in the shadows where only secrets dwelled.
Clearing my throat, I finally untangled myself from my thoughts and answered Margot, “It took almost a year, but I did manage to get him back into the sea, yes.”
“And did he like it?”
“God, no.” I laughed softly. “He hated that I managed to coerce him for the second time and promised if I ever did it again, he’d hate me too.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “Hate you for what exactly? You were just trying to help him get over unresolved trauma.”
“Yes, but I went about it the wrong way.” I brushed down my dress, deliberately not meeting his eyes. “And he had a right to hate me. For many things, really.”
Would they judge me for how the rest unfurled? Would they understand the things I’d done and the events that came to pass? Could an outsider ever truly sympathise with another’s life story when they might have done things differently and changed the entire course of how the years unfolded?
But it was too late to change my mind now.
I’d wanted to do this.
I wouldn’t stop just as it was getting good.
Sitting taller, I said, “I managed to get Aslan back into the sea the night after my fifteenth birthday.”
“Oh, that’s a tricky age.” Margot smiled. “So many urges. So many new feelings swirling around and making young bodies grow up.”
I smiled at her, remembering those tormented, tangled years. “I agree. I was fairly young when I officially became a woman, but I felt so worldly, so old and ready for life to begin. Fourteen was when my first cycle struck, and my breasts grew big enough to become a nuisance whenever I wriggled into my wetsuit. I’d hoped, as my body stopped looking so much like a child’s, that Aslan would start seeing me differently, but...ever since he saved my life, he seemed even more determined to only see me as Jack and Anna’s daughter.
“Off-limits.
“Too young.
“Entirely forbidden on the threat of ostracization.
“Needless to say, having him hover over me at my father’s bequest and having him accompany me wherever I went, all while harbouring such feelings for him—feelings that only grew stronger—I steadily became a bit of a wreck.”
“When you say he accompanied you wherever you went, surely you don’t mean literally.” Dylan looked up from scribbling down a note, his eyes fixed on mine as if waiting for me to prove I’d just exaggerated part of my tale.
“I meant what I said. Apart from marching into school and sitting beside me during class, Aslan was in every moment of my teenage years.”
“How exactly?” he asked.
“Well, for example, I’d ask my mother if I could go to the movies with my friend Zara and the local boys who’d been flirting with us. Sure, she’d say...but only if Aslan chaperones. I’d spend the entire movie feeling his eyes on the back of my head, unable to even smile at the boy sitting next to me for fear Aslan would either punch him or tell my father what I’d gotten up to.
“On the nights I’d lie and say I had a study session with some girlfriends, Aslan would knock on my bedroom door, jiggling the borrowed Jeep keys, asking me where he had to drive me for my study session.”
I rolled my eyes with a reminiscing smile. “Of course it wasn’t study sessions I wanted to go to but underage house parties. I was literally the only girl in my class who hadn’t been kissed by a tipsy boy or gotten tipsy herself on stolen parental liquor. And the worst part was, it wasn’t because of strict parents but because I had a sexy-as-hell nineteen-year-old boy with morals purer than Jesus following me around.”