Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 66057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Under all the hurt, the insults, and the things we could never take back, I still felt our profound love in this house.
I hadn’t been in our bedroom for months, and once I stepped into the space we used to share, a shiny frame caught my attention from the corner of the room. Suddenly, I was walking toward the pictures I hadn’t seen in who knows how long.
Did she just hang these?
Reaching for the frame, I took out the photos to hold them in my hand. It was the pictures we had taken in the photobooth at the end of the summer carnival all those years ago. We were sixteen and looked so fucking young. Her eyes sparkled against the sun coming in through the balcony behind me, only revealing her contagious smile and petite features as her hair flowed around her stunning face.
I remembered that night as if it were yesterday.
“Fuck, Kinley,” I breathed out to myself. “Where did we go wrong?”
“I ask myself that every day, Christian.”
I spun around, and our eyes connected. She was standing by the door, looking at me with uncertainty and sadness.
“If that were true, we wouldn’t be getting a divorce.”
“What? Now you think I don’t love you? You couldn’t be more wrong. You’re the only family I have. Did you ever think about that? Do you ever think about how hard this is on me? Do you even care what I feel?”
“Of course I do.”
“You’re not the only one who’s hurting, Christian.”
“Well, you’re the only one who’s hurting us, Kinley.”
“You want a baby. A family. And you deserve that. It’s not fair that I can’t give you one.”
“You don’t know that. It was years ago, and if you’d let my partner take a look at yo—”
“Christian, stop! Just stop!”
“Just fucking tell me how do I stop loving you?!”
—Kinley—
“I don’t know, Christian! Because I don’t know how to stop loving you either! I’m just so tired of not being able to say the right things to you. I’m exhausted having to walk on egg shells when we’re together or else we’ll fight. I ask myself every day what happened to us. You’re my best friend—”
“I’m not Jax, Kinley, so let’s get that straight.”
“Oh my God! Are we back to this now? Jax isn’t even here. He’s in Miami. It’s football season.”
Jax had been the quarterback for Miami for the last twelve years. He was the all-star, the G.O.A.T. (greatest of all time) Getting drafted right out of college, he quickly became an overnight sensation with the world. Titled one of the most eligible bachelors by Forbes. He was an eternal bachelor, but we were still close. He’d been in my life since I was twelve-years-old, and Christian and he were still constantly butting heads for my attention.
You’d think they would have found middle ground after all these years.
They hadn’t.
Although, it was better than it was when we were younger.
“We’re not in high school anymore. Why do you worry yourself over nonsense?” I questioned, shaking my head. “You see his life. He has a different girl in his bed every night.”
“I don’t give a fuck who he has in his bed, Kinley. As long as it’s not you.”
“We’ve never even kissed! I am not having this conversation with you. It’s pointless and stupid. You’re just trying to find something to argue about.”
“At least it has you talking to me.”
“What would you like me to say? Anything I say to you turns into another fight, and I can’t do it anymore. I’m over it!”
“It’s so easy for you, huh? Forgetting about me, about us.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“You didn’t have to! Don’t worry, I’m packing up my shit. I’ll be out of your life soon enough. You’ll have the house all to yourself, exactly like you want.”
“What?” I jerked back. “I don’t even want this house! You’re the one who insisted I keep it.”
“I built this house for you, Kinley. It was never mine.”
“No! You built this house for the family that we don’t have. The one I can’t—”
“Maybe you can have Jax move in since he’s always here to pick up the pieces for you.”
“Fuck you!”
He didn’t hesitate, ripping our photobooth pictures in his hands.
“Noooooo…”
He tossed them on the floor in between us, and they scattered to the ground.
“I can’t believe you just did that. Those are the first pictures we ever took together, Christian. How could you do that?”
He got right in my face, backing me up against the wall. “The same way you could just rip apart our marriage and then throw it away like it meant nothing.”
Tears slid down the sides of my face, and he took one last look at me, spewing, “You wanted this. Remember that. You have no one to blame but yourself, sweetness.”
I winced. It was the first time he’d used my term of endearment in such a hurtful way. My chest rose and fell, feeling like I was going to crumble to the floor at any second.