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)
I didn’t mind so much that her family was there, that she was sharing them with him, but that, too, was something that put my mind at ease about what was going on between the two of them. The second one was pretty much the same, but this last one that shit is a no-no. She’s smiling into his eyes, the fuck.
The little voice in my head that has been riding my ass for as long as I’d been here in the mountains away from all civilization decided to stick his nose in my shit again. Oh, so you were happy when she was hidden away from the world, crying her eyes out because of the shit you put her through, but now that she’s moving on, you’re losing your shit?
“Shut the fuck, up.” That fucking voice is more annoying than the guy who sweated the drugs out of my system in the middle of the hot-ass Arizona desert.
Well, I could shut up, but what’re you gonna do now that she’s moved on?
“She hasn’t moved on, you dick.” I looked back at the picture and fought back the tears. She was smiling at him, yes, she was even holding his hand, but the way she held her body away from any other physical contact spoke volumes to the man who knew her better than anyone.
Whatever those two had going on, it was not love. I need to believe that, or I’d be lost. Not that I wasn’t wandering around in a maze of fuckery already. “She’s not in love with him.”
Yeah, but you don’t have to be in love to fuck someone. You’ve done it plenty of times.
“If you don’t shut your fucking yap….” What the fuck? I’m arguing with my own conscience out loud in an old log cabin in the middle of nowhere.
I guess she hit the nail on the head when she sang that song about me being lonely for the rest of my life without her. I was too drugged up before to appreciate the songs that I knew had been directed at me, except for the one that became an anthem for every broken-hearted woman between five and ninety-five. That one gutted me and sent Janie into a tizzy that lasted weeks.
I saw that she had a new single out and turned my attention to that instead of losing my shit over her and that piece of shit with the smarmy smile. I’d like to knock those teeth down his neck and see who the hell he’d be smiling at in the future.
The new song sounded more like herself, not as broken as she had been, but there was something about it that kept nagging at me and made me feel more melancholic than ever before. I’d done nothing but listen to her songs since coming up here; the old ones were heart-wrenching. But this new one hit differently. There was something about this one that sounded almost familiar.
It was better for me to focus on that, on what was bothering me about the song, than to dwell on her being with another man. ‘Hey, asshole, you’re married.’
“Fuck off!”
No problem, I just thought I should remind you that you have a whole-ass wife that you haven’t seen in months and haven’t even tried to call.
It’s a crime and my burden to bear that the only way I can shut him the hell up is by getting high. This fuck hasn’t shut up since we got here, alone, in solitude, with nothing but myself and my mind to deal with.
I listened to her last single over and over again, well into the night, taking it apart word by word, line by line. I guess I know now why this one was haunting me. It was her goodbye song. I finally cracked the code. Like fuck!
Chapter 28
*Ryder*
She wants to write songs about goodbye; let’s show her how that’s gonna go down. And since she used music to get her message to me, there’s no better way for me to do it than to answer her with a song. Only, I doubt she’s going to like my answer.
I picked up paper and pen and got to work, but I was too pissed off to see straight, let alone write anything of any substance. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get the song right, and my frustration kept growing.
I kept writing and rewriting it to get the words just right. It’s been hours since I started, and I’ve spent that time vacillating between being happy that she still remembered our codes and being pissed that she was using it to tell me goodbye.
I couldn’t even enjoy the fact that she was talking to me, albeit through song, but at least she was acknowledging my existence. The girl hasn’t spoken to me once in five years. And the two times she’d graced me with her presence in the same vicinity, she’d looked right through me.