Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I had no answer to that. It was hard to imagine that our sneaking around, hiding our relationship from friends and her parents, was going to end in just … friendship.
“But you don’t have a wife yet.” She turned her head and grinned at me.
“Not that I know of.” I grinned back at her.
“Do you still want to kiss me now that you know I have evil in my blood?”
“You have evil in your blood. I have asshole in mine. Maybe we were made for each other.”
Her smile swelled. “Maybe,” she whispered.
I kissed her. After a while, we repositioned, lying on the blanket.
Kissing.
Our legs scissored.
And our future uncertain at best.
CHAPTER TEN
“I was a terrible daughter,” I said to my mom after my dad left for work. We sat on the deck in our robes, sipping coffee, watching pedestrians pass on the trail that used to be dirt. It’s now a beautiful green space, and my tree is still there.
“What are you talking about?”
I blow at the steam. “My junior year, when you told me about the rape, I was so self-absorbed, thinking only about myself. I felt so angry and betrayed. And just … lost. I felt sorry for myself. For myself. And you were the one who was raped.” I shake my head. “That was really terrible of me. But that’s who I am. I’m a terrible person.”
“Stop it.” She reaches over, resting her hand on my leg and squeezing it. “Look at me.”
I lift my gaze to hers. The same question swirls in my head.
What did she ever do to deserve me?
“If I told you dandelions are taking over the neighborhood, and you took a walk, all you’d focus on are the dandelions. It wouldn’t matter if there were ten or ten million. That’s all your eyes would see because I planted the idea in your mind. It’s a distorted reality. You never thought you had bad blood before I told you about the night you were conceived. You never thought you were a serial killer until some psychic told you. The fact is you were a child conceived from rape. And maybe … just maybe your soul carries a piece of a man who did awful things over a hundred years ago. But that’s not who you are.”
I don’t know who I am. My mind won’t shut off and let me go back to the woman I was before the shooting. It took years for me to accept what happened to my mom and what that meant for me.
“Sometimes, I feel like it’s too much. It’s exhausting waking up every morning with a hangover from my dreams. My head hurts, and the anxiety is like nothing I have ever experienced. I don’t want to eat pills for the rest of my life to keep from feeling. I don’t want to spend every waking hour second-guessing my choices, wondering if I’ve just had a bad day or if I’m in a bad mood because I’m a bad person. And I can’t un-read what I’ve already read. If reincarnation is a real thing, then it explains why a five-year-old can sit down at a piano and play Mozart without having ever taken a lesson or without having ever heard Mozart. So then the question I have is … what happens when I do something without realizing what or why I’m doing it?”
What happens when I do something bad because in another life I was a psychopath? What if that’s my hidden talent?
It would explain why I’m so good at what I do.
Clinical.
Precise.
Emotionless.
“Don’t answer that.” I stand. “I’m going to head home. I just needed to tell you. I guess I needed someone to share the burden with me. And …” I puff my cheeks before blowing out a long breath. “Once again, I’m a terrible daughter. I’ve handed you an impossible situation to solve. And I know by nature, you feel the need to solve all of my problems.”
She stands, setting her coffee on the side table. “You’re right. I wish I could solve all your problems. While I’m at it, I’d like to solve all the world’s problems. But I can’t. And I know this.” She presses her hands to my cheeks. “But it’s not going to stop me from trying. I love you as much as one human can possibly love another human.” She bites her lips together for a beat as emotions fill her eyes. “It was my choice to bring you into this world. You are not allowed to leave it while I’m still alive. Do you hear me?”
My jaw clenches as if not breathing, not blinking, not moving will keep me from falling apart. I nod. No mother should have to say those words to her child. It’s a fucking suicide speech. And I showed up less than twenty-four hours ago, laying out all the reasons my mom might need to convince me it’s not okay to exit this world yet.