Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
We’d fallen asleep every night in that room, which I’d cleaned up, not allowing him to help, and there was nothing like being wrapped up in each other, slick bodies and those same wandering hands that had invaded my brain. We’d jerked or sucked each other off daily, but we hadn’t fucked yet. Neither of us had made the move to do so, and I wasn’t sure why.
Another thing we hadn’t done was talk about what in the hell we were doing. It was like we thought if we didn’t speak the words, there would be no consequences, that our reality wasn’t true, so we could go on pretending in this cocoon we’d made together.
It was a nice fucking place to call home, but it wasn’t real, and we both knew that.
I was standing in front of my easel when my cell rang with Mom’s ringtone. Nerves immediately pricked down my spine as if there was some way she could have found out, as if she didn’t call me regularly, so if she was now, she must have discovered Isaac and I were…together. We were saying that? I assumed so since we were in love, but it was all such a mess that normal rules didn’t apply.
I wanted to ignore the call, but my stress wouldn’t let me. I’d drive myself crazy thinking she’d found us out, so I answered. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, you. Is it silly that your voice sounds happier now that it’s coming from Atlanta instead of New York? Because it does.”
I chuckled. She was so great. I’d never known what it felt like to go without or to feel unloved. She’d always wanted to spend time with me and bond with me, and when Isaac had come into our lives, that had extended to him. From the moment she and Dad were serious, Isaac had become her son. And that made me feel even guiltier about what we were doing because while that love gave me hope that she would find a way to accept us, it was also what would make this difficult for her.
“I am happy,” I admitted. “I feel… I don’t even know how to put it into words. Freer than I have in a long time, like I’m more me than I’ve let myself be in years, or maybe more than I’ve ever been.” Because how could I have ever been authentic when I hadn’t been honest in how I felt about Isaac?
“That makes me so happy. And I love that both my boys are together again. Things have felt strained with the two of you for a while, but that seems to be changing. Isaac has always loved you so much.” I froze, heart racing, feeling like it might burst in my chest at any moment. Was she saying… Did she know? “I know we’ve said this before, and it’s so hard to feel this way because of what it means when it comes to your daddy and Isaac’s biological mom, but I feel like we were meant to be a family, that you and Isaac were meant to be brothers. He needs you, and if anything were to come between the two of you…well, I’m not sure how well he’d deal with that.”
Which was another risk in a relationship. It was all a risk. I worried how Isaac would respond if we broke up. I couldn’t quiet that thought, but I managed to find a way to admit my own truth as well, “I need him too.”
“Yeah, I know. I just worry about Isaac more in that way. He doesn’t let anyone in other than you, and that’s not something you struggle with. Anyway, I don’t know how we got onto that subject. Both my boys are happy, and I just might be the luckiest woman in the world. I just called to touch base with you and have you remind Isaac of the family get-together next month.”
I went over and sat on the bed. Fuck, how had I forgotten about that? While our grandmas on both sides often came out, and I went to see my grandparents on my dad’s side as well, there was a huge meet-up every couple of years of everyone on both sides—aunts, uncles, cousins, and Mom’s and Dad’s mothers. Mom organized it, wanting to make sure both Isaac’s extended family and ours were close. It was just over a weekend, and then most everyone except the grandmas went their own way, but it was a tradition, and there was no way of getting out of it. At least not for me or Isaac. I bet he’d forgotten about it too.
“Yeah, we’ll be there. Of course we’ll be there.” It would be awkward as hell, considering what Isaac and I were doing. We couldn’t tell anyone, and it would be a constant reminder, everyone talking about us as if we’re a unit but not the kind we wanted to be. They would call us family.