Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Vanessa throws her hands up. “I need to lie down and put a cold compress over my head. That’s my purpose. This is all too much. You and Ellie and J-Jane… What is she doing with that douchebag, Ellie?”
“I have no idea, but Mom, let me hug you before you go, please?”
Vanessa nods, then Ellie stands, and the two women embrace. As they hold each other, Vanessa looks at me. “Just because I’m leaving her here, don’t think that means I approve.”
“But Mom—”
“I understand,” I quickly say before Ellie can go on.
Vanessa needs her pride. She needs to be able to tell herself she took a stand before she left. She put me in my place. I get that. I wouldn’t take that from her. It’s a mother’s right to know in her soul that she’s done the best for her child.
“Text me in an hour,” Vanessa says, kissing Ellie on the forehead. “Okay?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Miraculously, Vanessa leaves. It’s not a miracle in the sense it’s the outcome I was hoping for, but it’s far better than how this could’ve gone. We sit again.
“Now what?” Ellie asks, her voice shaking. “When they showed up, I thought it would be Armageddon. I don’t want the night to end now. All that arguing, Jane, Cillian… I feel wired.”
“Me too,” I reply.
“Did you mean what you said? Love at first sight?”
I reach over, take both her hands, and squeeze. I look deeply into her eyes. Then—like a movie—my focus pulls, and I see her mom standing at the restaurant doorway, looking sternly at me.
“We had to make her understand,” I say vaguely, weakly, knowing I’ll have to make this right.
She smiles, though her eyes register a moment of hurt that stabs me in the chest. “Yeah, you’re right. Hopefully, she did.”
“It would be easier if Jane just told the truth.”
“Maybe she will one day.”
I nod, but I’m not holding out much hope. After a few far-too-morose moments, I take Ellie’s hand again, squeezing it. “I’ve got somewhere we can go. I think you’ll like it.”
She smiles, a little nervous now. There are a thousand shades of her, each more perfect than the last.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Ellie
“Is this allowed?” I say as we walk onto the college campus from the back entrance, which seems like a service entrance. His hand is warm against my arm as he softly guides me through. “I don’t want to get expelled.”
He smirks. “Don’t worry. I used to do this all the time. When I first started, I’d bring my dog to campus at night. He was a night owl—a night Doberman, I guess you’d say.”
“You had a dog?”
He nods, taking my hand as we walk across the moonlit lawn toward a cluster of lecture hall buildings. The housing isn’t onsite, which is why it’s so quiet. There’s a twenty-four-hour library on the other side of the campus. It’s a separate area with no security—just students swiping for entry with caffeine in their veins and assignments on their minds.
“I’ve had three. Petey will be the fourth. We’ll be safe here.”
“What are we going to do?” I ask, hearing the giddy thrill in my voice as though it’s coming from somebody else.
I shouldn’t feel this excited, ready for an adventure, not after everything that’s happened, but Mom left me with him. Sure, she had her stern face on. Sure, it’s difficult, and there are problems, but she left me. Doesn’t that mean something?
Or is this my excuse-ready mind throwing up more make-believe?
“Forget,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and kissing me on the head. “Forget about Jane and Cillian and… No, we can’t forget about your mom. Your relationship with her matters.”
I cuddle closer to him, my shoes tip-tapping on the ground when we transition from the grass to the concrete. He turns me away from the main path.
“My dog and I explored this place,” he goes on. “I learned how to avoid the cameras.”
I laugh. “Thanks for saying that about Mom. I wish there were a way for you two to be friends. Earlier, when you were talking, I almost thought you might be. It was like—I don’t know—she saw it. Saw us.”
“I pushed it too far by mentioning marriage.”
We already mentioned love, I almost say, but then I remember the restaurant and what he said. Love at first sight was just a helpful phrase, a shorthand, so Mom would understand.
“But she wouldn’t have left,” I say, “not if she thought… Oh, God, Jane. I still love her, Max. I hate her, and I love her.”
“I don’t hate her,” he says softly.
“You don’t?”
“I hate what she said and the lies she told. The more I think about it, the more I think she needs help.”
“Maybe not everybody can be saved.”
He sighs, stopping under the shadow of a large tree. We wait here, just like before, when he picked me up from work. Under the tree, in the shadows, as if anything we do is hidden, but we don’t want to sneak around forever.