Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Next card.
Before you, my biggest regret.
In the background, there’s a shadow of a man handcuffed to a bed. But the center of the picture is a vibrating cell phone with a skull flashing across the screen, and a dozen black flies circling it.
She sighs and nods slowly.
I throw this placard down harder than the others.
After you, only one.
We’re strolling through Pinnacle Pointe. She’s walking Cream and I have Coffee. Both of the Dobermans are painted with huge panting smiles.
The placard drops.
The next scene shows a woman’s jagged silhouette limping away while a pitch-black shadow of a man stands beside her, stupidly watching.
My biggest mistake. Forever.
A tear cuts down her cheek and she twists her head to wipe it away.
Shit, am I hurting her again?
Reminding her how absolutely stupid I can be?
I let the card fall with a loud crash against the ground.
The next picture is my silhouette with a fractured red heart in my chest.
No caption necessary.
Down it goes.
Now, a silhouette of a woman in the center. She’s wearing a cape with one hand resting on her hip. Her other arm is up in a triumphant power pose.
It’s surrounded by small vignettes of the female superhero directing a creative team, corralling two massive dogs, running an inn, and finally, handing me the two shattered halves of my own heart.
You put me back together, and I still broke us.
I look at her.
Jenn’s hands hang loosely at her sides now. No longer folded protectively across her chest.
Goddamn, please let that be a sign.
“M-Miles...” she stammers.
I let the painting fall and hold up the next.
Every day, you’re so close.
The silhouettes stand in the lush garden again with their backs turned, a wall of night between them.
Next scene.
But so damn far away.
This painting is almost identical to the last, but the barbed wire fence of words is back.
I drop the card quickly, revealing the final scene.
My breath is molten lead in my lungs.
I don’t want to give up on her. On us.
But I’ve put everything on the line here.
If she rejects me again, after this, I’m not sure when I can take another beating. I’ll have no choice but to crawl back to my house with my tail between my legs.
Her eyes glisten as she blots at their corners with her finger. I give her a few seconds so she can see the next card.
Our silhouettes are still in the garden now, but she’s wearing her cape. Both hands planted on her hips. I’m in front of her, on my knees, holding out my heart, a neat repair line sewn between the two halves, mending them.
Hell, I’m almost on my knees for real right now.
Almost.
But I stand there, holding the sign, too afraid to let this one drop with the grim clatter of finality.
I cling to it so fucking hard my hands hurt, but it’s not the sign I care about.
I’m hanging on for life.
Desperation in every torn breath.
My last chance.
Our last hope.
Possibly my last word.
She’s frozen in front of me, her bottom lip quivering, still periodically wiping her eyes.
Fuck, what was I thinking?
Have I just made it worse?
My heartbeat drums in my ears. It’s like my own stupidity has a pulse.
At least I tried.
I nod tightly and look down at the mess of cards under me, signaling I’m ready to leave her alone.
I’m ready, even at the cost of the rest of my hellish life alone.
Just as I’m about to bend down to clean up the mess I’ve left on her porch, she shoots out the door and cannonballs into me.
“Oof!” I look down.
Jenn’s arms are around my neck, shaking as she takes hold.
My arms instinctively fold around her. I steady my weight to keep us both from falling over.
Her lips brush my cheek, needy and unsure.
“God, you... you...” It’s just a low moan and she still can’t get it out. “Miles.”
She kisses my cheek again, this time harder.
My face is wet from her tears.
Why is she crying?
What do those tears mean?
I swear, this woman will be the death of me.
Still, ever the hopeful idiot, I hug her tighter. “Jenn, it’s been over two months since you were in my arms.”
“Y-yeah.” She moves a hand from my neck to my hair and runs her fingers through it, smiling up at me. “You were counting, huh?”
“Every damn hour. I needed you, kitten.”
She closes her eyes, melting against me like it’s all she’s ever wanted to hear.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispers.
“I tried.” I pull her hand from my hair, bring it to my lips, and kiss it.
“Sooner?”
“Because I’m a dumb fucking buffalo.”
“You’re in luck. I love buffalos,” she counters, laughing. “But really, just one.”
It doesn’t register at first, the fact that she still loves me after all of this shit.
And if her words aren’t enough, her eyes don’t lie.
She’s gazing up at me like I’ve plucked all the stars from the sky and I’m offering them like diamonds.