Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Was that why she took her life? Was she not strong enough to face having a newborn with that kind of fear hanging over her? Strangely, I wasn’t angry. I didn’t hate her for giving up because I wasn’t in her shoes, but I could certainly understand her terror. That same terror was beginning to seep into me. What if a similar future was waiting for me? What if, in a few years’ time, I received the diagnosis that Nadine had?
The questions kept me from sleeping, and when I did, it was fitful.
I spent the next day with my mom. We went into the city and had lunch, strolled through some of the parks and did a little shopping. The atmosphere between us was subdued, and she kept shooting me these worried glances like I was going to turn around and yell that I hated her, that I could never trust her again after she’d lied to me.
I tried to reassure her, let her know that I might have new aunts and new family to possibly get to know, but as far as I was concerned, she was still my number one. She was flawed, but she was mine, and this new information wouldn’t change that. My life had turned out better for her being in it, and I would always be grateful to her for that. Without her, I might never have known a mother’s love. The way she’d gone about it was messed up, but that didn’t negate the fact she’d taken a small, defenceless child and given her the care she’d needed.
For that act alone, I could never hate her.
In the end, Mom extended her visit by a week so we could fly home together. I’d made peace with everything, but a new anxiety began to form. I didn’t want to leave Rhys. I’d become attached to him in a way I’d never expected. I adored him, and I couldn’t stand the thought of going off to college and never seeing him again.
Which was why I foolishly decided to try and convince him to abandon his plans to go to France and instead come to America with me. I just didn’t understand why he was so married to his idea of becoming a soldier. He simply couldn’t see another path for himself.
And it was the cause of our first big fight.
18.
Rhys
As the days passed and Charli’s departure drew closer, tension brewed between us. She’d been spending time with Nuala, her mother, and her aunts most days, and then we’d hole up together in her room or the den at night. It felt like we were both avoiding the reality of our situation. Our kisses had become more urgent, a desperate edge to the sex like we were trying to grasp for the final pieces of each other before it ended.
We’d just finished watching a movie in her room when Charli sat up in the bed and turned to face me. “Don’t go to France. Come to America instead,” she blurted, and I stared at her for several long beats. She wanted me to come to America with her? Surprise filled me, but it was quickly followed by regret because, even though a part of me wanted nothing more than to be with her, I knew it wasn’t possible.
“Charli,” I breathed, a brick sinking in my stomach. “I can’t do that.”
She slid closer, grabbing my hands in hers like I might slip away if she didn’t keep hold of me. “Why? You said you need to get away from Ireland, so why not just change the destination? There’s so much you could do in Boston. If you don’t want to go to school, you could get a job somewhere near my college. We could find a small apartment off campus and—”
“Charli, stop,” I pleaded, pain slicing through me. The future she painted was a pretty one, but I knew it wouldn’t work out that way. Maybe we’d be together for a couple months, and things would be great, but she’d soon grow tired of me. And I’d grow restless. The demons inside me would eat me alive without an outlet to tame them.
Her eyes watered, and I hated myself for making her so upset. “Rhys, please, just hear me out. At least say you’ll consider it.”
“I can’t.”
Her hands squeezed mine. “Yes, you can. You don’t have to become a soldier. They are other ways to—”
“I do, Charli. I do.”
She sat back, deflated. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
The dejection on her voice caused a sharp sting in my breastplate. “I have this … this restlessness inside me,” I said, searching for the right words to explain. “The way my childhood was, feeling so powerless all the time, I need to prove to myself that I can be strong, that no one will ever make me feel as small and weak as my father did. But the road to becoming that man isn’t in some college town with a beautiful, smart, caring girl like you. It’s a hard road, one with struggle, conflict, and pain. I can’t explain it, but I yearn for that struggle. I need a brutal routine. I need someone yelling at me to get the fuck up when I fall down, to taunt me when I want to quit. It feels like it’s the only thing that will ease the restlessness, the only way to slay the demons that eat away at me.”