Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
I don’t want them to see my face. I don’t want them to know that I know.
I get in the car and start the engine with a rev as I fake a smile and wave. I put the car into reverse, and without looking back, I drive out of the driveway and out of Nathan Mercer’s life.
I’m fucking done.
* * *
It’s Tuesday and my finger hovers over the name:
Henry Morgan
It’s time. I need to move on. And I know just how to do it. I dial his number.
“Hey. What do you want?” he answers with an obvious smile.
“Are you still coming to the conference in New York on Friday?” I blurt out before I can reconsider.
“I am.”
“Let’s go out Friday night.”
“Ah.” He chuckles. “Finally, I’ve been waiting for you to want to see me.”
My eyes close. He’s such a flirt. “Well, I do, so hurry up and get here.”
Nathan
I’m sitting in the waiting room, looking around at the people sitting and waiting. What are they all doing here?
An elderly woman, a young man, a couple in the corner.
They all look so put together, as if nothing could possibly be off in their lives.
And then, there’s me. The perfect illusion.
Expensive suit, good-looking by society’s standards, financially independent, fit and healthy. A heart surgeon at the top of his game. No procedure on the operating table scares him, but then he’s also someone who drives around the block ten times every night before he can muster up the courage to go into his apartment.
That guy hates going home because it reminds him of her.
Home isn’t home anymore, and nothing is what it’s supposed to be.
I’m fucked up. I’m fucked up, bad.
And I’m really trying to pull myself out of this, but every day without Eliza, I feel like I lose a little more of my sanity. Things are going from bad to worse.
Everything is coming to a head, and I’m not sleeping again, which is dangerous in my profession. I’m taking sleeping tablets to get in four to five hours a night, and even then, my body fights it.
I inhale sharply. I’ve come to a new therapist today. I’m not getting anywhere with Elliot. I want a new perspective. One from a female.
The door opens, and a woman walks out into the waiting room. “Nathan?”
I stand. “Yes.”
She gives me a kind smile. “This way, please.” She shakes my hand. “My name is Amanda.”
“Hello, Amanda.” I nod.
She holds her hand out. “Please, take a seat.”
* * *
“Is the room satisfactory, Mr. Mercer?” the girl from reception asks.
“Yes.” I smile.
“Your luggage will be up in a moment.” With a kind nod, she heads toward the door.
“Thank you.”
The door clicks, and I look around the penthouse.
I’m in Majorca, in the same apartment that Eliza and I spent our vacation together.
I walk out onto the balcony and stare out over the sea. The breeze whips at my hair, and a flood of memories wash over me like a warm bath.
I smile, I feel at peace here. It’s like I can feel the closeness that Eliza and I shared. It lingers in the air like a wonderful perfume.
This is a special place, and I came here to try and find some clarity. This heartache isn’t going away. If anything, it’s getting worse by the day. I was positive that it would be fine, and that everything would pan out as it was supposed to. But it doesn’t feel like that. It’s like I’m fighting against fate.
With every breath that I take, I feel it. The weight of what I have lost is a heavy load to carry.
Follow your gut.
The age old saying is supposed to lead me in the right direction. But unfortunately, my gut has left the building, along with all rationality.
Recently, it’s like everything has come to a head. I keep going over and over that last week we were together, and how I reacted to Robert’s admission of love.
I was shocked, for sure. But I constantly told Eliza it was her that I wanted.
I exhale heavily. Did she see it differently to me? I told her that I didn’t want him. I told her I loved her. I told her how I felt.
But she left anyway.
I close my eyes in regret. I don’t even know who was in the wrong anymore.
I was positive it wasn’t me, but I know Eliza, and I know that she would have called me, if only as a friend, if I were not to blame.
I watch a seagull. It flies over the ocean and lands on the sand. Music starts up somewhere in the distance, and another wave of fresh memories roll in.
I remember us dancing out here in the moonlight to the distant melody.
I open a beer and take a seat in the deckchair, and I put my feet up on the ottoman as my mind repeats the mantra, Where did we go wrong?