Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Did you forget something? I can help you…shit, I should tell that guy not to leave! Oh my god, he’s pulling away!”
“Darby!” I bark. “Just let him leave. I’m not going. Call them and tell them that I’m not going.”
She’s stunned into absolute silence. She’s staring at me, and the disappointment hasn’t crept in yet. I want to make it inside before it does and before she lets me know all the ways I’m a failure and a true Lord Poo.
Unfortunately, it’s rude to close the door in her face and lock her out, so as much as I want my privacy, I leave it open. Because I’m just trying to be polite. Not because I actually want her near me right now, to calm me down and reassure me. Not because I want her soft touches and hungry kisses. And not because I need her to tell me that I’m going to be alright and that I haven’t fucked this beyond redemption six ways to Sunday and then back again.
Instead of seeking comfort, which I will not allow myself to do because I haven’t forgotten that I’m not supposed to be all soft and squishy and teddy bearish, I round on her. “What did you expect? That a few days would change everything?”
She snaps her mouth shut and grabs her phone. She makes a quick call while I pace to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I down it fast in large gulps, my chest heaving.
I need to stop before I wreck everything. Because I could definitely wreck everything. And even though I know that’s what I need to do because yeah, yeah, my brain keeps telling me that Darby isn’t for me, I know it intrinsically to the marrow of my bones. That actually makes sense because all of me fucking aches at the moment.
Darby storms into the kitchen a minute later, and she’s prepared to let me have it. It’s a good thing because I’m ready to do battle. This is going to be explosive and spectacular, and then I’ll be alone, and everything will go back to normal. Well, almost everything. I still have some arsehole cards left up my sleeve to assure myself that Darby will never want to see me again.
“So all the stuff this morning about you wanting to do this, to figure things out, be together, and move forward together, that was just a lie to get in my pants?” Darby asks me. She’s seething, and the words are hissed out. Her cheeks are scarlet.
I can’t lie to her about that. I can’t do it. “No.” I don’t want her to ever think I used her. I would never do that. “I wasn’t lying. In the cab, I realized that I just can’t do this.” I point to her. “It’s the same shit. I thought I could hope, but hope is ridiculous. It is me. Those tests are probably just going to confirm that I could be mush in a few years. That with one more knock to the head, it’s all over. I’m not going to saddle you with that. You want a good life, a family of your own, kids, and normal shit that is perfectly normal to want, and I can’t give that to you.”
Darby slaps her knee, which I guess is code for I’m seriously pissed at you right now. “You don’t know that because you won’t go for the tests!”
“Yes, well, you married a coward, I’m afraid.”
“I get that you’re scared. Who would want to know they’re messed up and that the end of good times might be coming? But you don’t know what they’re going to tell you! They could very well tell you that you’re fine and give you some medication for the headaches, and everything would be great. You’d have your life back!”
I whip off the sunglasses I’m still wearing and wrench off my suit jacket so hard that the seams rip. It’s a rather satisfying sound. Once that’s off, I tear open the top buttons of my dress shirt so I can breathe again.
“You want to be left alone!” she seethes. “You’re just freaking out right now, and you’re mad and sad, and you’re trying to chase me away.”
“No. You don’t understand. We do not have a future.” I use my perfectly condescending voice, knowing it will probably only piss her off more. “We cannot have a future because I have no real future.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. I’ve heard all this before. The truth is, you don’t know jack shit until you get those tests, and you need to get them. If you’re not ready, fair enough. But you should get yourself ready, and soon. Pep talk or motivate yourself, or do whatever you have to do. Just please, don’t be too afraid to take care of yourself. If you already think you’re going to self-destruct physically, is there any harm in having someone tell you that? Because I bet that they won’t. You’ll be surprised, and it will all be good, and you would’ve spent all these years worrying for nothing.”