Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
For some reason, once I was alone in the dark, panic decided to set in, and I had to do my breathing exercises to calm myself down. At least the thing I dreaded most didn’t happen—he wasn’t there, and neither was she.
I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow as warm tears gathered in my eyes and cruised slowly down my cheeks. Why does it still hurt so bad? When will this loneliness end? When will I be happy again? “FUCK YOU, RYDER SUMNER,” I screamed into the pillow and felt just a little bit better for it, so I did it again.
It was the first time I’d said his name out loud, and it jarred me to the core. I’d avoided it so much that it had become some sort of boogeyman in my mind. It was the one thing I’d promised myself never to do again. Well, I’d promised never to say the cute little nickname I used to call him by again.
Somehow, I ended up screaming and crying into the pillow, both things I’ve spent a lot of time training myself not to do, but now I’m wondering why I’d ever made myself do that because it was so cathartic.
I felt drained but surprisingly good when it was over, and I dropped off into sleep like a lodestone. Ryder’s face was the last thing I saw before the darkness took me, and for a split second, I was propelled back in time, back to when his face was the last thing I saw every night before I went to sleep. Back when my life was beautiful and fun, and the only thing I had to worry about was getting up in time for my early morning studio sessions.
I dreamt of him that night. It had been so long since the last time he showed up that I wasn’t fast enough to keep him out. As I looked into his beautiful brown eyes, much darker than mine, I asked the one question I felt ready to ask. “Why?”
Chapter 8
*Ryder*
She dropped a new song. How did I miss the fact that she was working again? I’ve been scouring the Internet ever since she came back to the city, and there was nothing. I had to hear about it from one of those hangers-on that my wife is so fond of. My wife, how the hell am I going to get by her?
I’m sure they didn’t think I heard their whispers through the voice-canceling headphones I had on, but lucky for me, I was in between playlists and overheard her name, which of course, made me stop in my tracks and listen.
Fuck this! I grabbed a light jacket from the guest closet and rushed towards the stairs, too much in a hurry to walk. “Hey, Rye….”
“Don’t call me that; I told you never to call me that.” Now walk away before I smash your fucking face in.
I used my anger and the shock she was in from the outburst to make my escape. It wasn’t the first time I’d yelled at her, and there have been many worst episodes in the past, but it was the price she paid for getting what she wanted and trapping me into this shit marriage that was slowly sucking the life out of me.
I ignored the staff and my bodyguards as they called out to me and jumped into the nearest death trap that I’d bought in a subconscious bid to end myself and peeled down the driveway, almost smashing through the gate that barely had time to swing open.
I forced myself not to listen to her song yet, not to even search for it on the streamer, not yet as the car sped through the night. Thank heaven it was late and not that many cars were on the road, or I’d have mowed through them all by now.
My feet and my heart knew where I was going before I did because I took the twists and turns up into the Hollywood hills to our place. I hadn’t been up here in three years, which was saying a lot since I was the one who’d introduced her to my favorite spot all those years ago.
I found out really early how quickly things like that could change, that once you’ve shared certain things with your forever person, those things will lose all their favor when that person is gone. Just the thought of bringing anyone else up here with me makes me both sick to my stomach and unreasonably pissed as well.
Even in my drugged haze, it wasn’t something that I could ever do because what we shared was in my DNA, something I know is not physically possible, but try telling it to my heart and soul. It’s because of thoughts like this that I stay high all day, every day, not giving a care about the world around me or anything in it.