Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“I’ll be fine,” I promised her. “I have to be.”
She blew me a kiss as I walked up the steps to Felix’s house.
He wasn’t home, that much I knew. Since seeing his parents at that damn gallery opening, he’d been talking to them much more. At least one good thing came out of that stupid fucking day, and he was now working a part-time job in his dad’s local hotel. It was management stuff that seemed boring to me at first, but then he told me all about the position, and I got excited as well. Not only because it seemed really interesting, but also because his dad had given him so much responsibility from the get go, showing how much he’d trusted his son all along.
And I knew Felix noticed as well. The way he smiled these days was much different than a little while ago.
I walked into the house and picked up the post absentmindedly, filing through bills and catalogues.
It felt natural now, living here with him.
We were talking about me going back to school, maybe. He was really supportive of the idea although I felt nervous when I thought about it.
I wondered how he’d take the news, especially knowing what happened in the playroom when both of them were still with me. I still felt those shards of glass inside me, and the thought made me sick.
I wondered if he’d be disappointed. That was my main concern. Would he even care though?
I felt a little sick with worry as I sat down on the couch with the mail. I went through a catalogue and put it aside before picking up a letter.
It was addressed to me.
I’d had some stuff sent to Felix’s house, but not much, and I was only just getting ready to tell my parents about my new living situation. I doubted they’d warm up to Felix much more than they had to… King.
The letter looked official, and I opened it curiously. There was another envelope inside, but I read the enclosed letter first.
My eyes skimmed the words, but I had to read them several times to understand what they really meant.
…we regret to inform you…
…due to the recent developments…
…charges will not be pressed.
I couldn’t understand, and my brows furrowed as I tried to make sense of the words.
Finally, King’s name jumped out at me, and I started to piece the puzzle together.
Robotically, I realized what had happened, and my hand over my mouth was the only reaction I could muster.
I opened the other envelope, and I started reading. I swallowed the words whole. It was the only thing I had left.
My pretty Pet,
I wanted to tell you how very sorry I am for everything that happened. But I also wanted to tell you a little bit more about the story, our story. Because that’s what it’s been all along, hasn’t it, Pet? The love story of two people who were never going to end up together. But unlike you, I’m going to leave without having anyone else. And you’ll be happy the way you are.
You have to understand, Pet, I’m a very selfish man.
When I saw you in that gallery, with the tray in your hands, I already knew I was dying.
I’d gotten the diagnosis a week or so earlier, and I was still pretty fucking angry about it.
I thought I could get it out of my system by fucking a pretty little thing like you.
That soon proved to be a wrong assumption. In moments, you were inside my mind, and you took permanent residence in my heart, something no other pet had ever managed before, but you did it at the click of your dainty fingers, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
A few days after I met you, I refused treatment. I also decided never to tell you about my illness.
I knew it wouldn’t do much to help our relationship. You’d be scared for me the whole time, refusing to do things I needed you for, worried about my wellbeing. And once I was gone, it would fucking break you. I couldn’t let that happen, Pet.
You’re a beautiful young girl with your whole life ahead of you. I knew you’d find someone else. And I knew who I wanted it to be.
I came up with the plan on that day. Find the perfect stranger and introduce him into your life without either of you knowing what he was doing there. He’d be my substitute at first, but in the end, he’d become what I could never be for you, because I didn’t have the time.
I knew when he’d be in our neighborhood, I did the research. He had money, but he rebelled against it. Anything he made went to charity, he barely bought himself anything. I actually fucking liked the guy, until I saw him with you. I made sure you’d run into him, and I think I knew you well enough by then to make sure you’d choose him.