Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Layla glances back, then quickly turns around, pretending to give us privacy.
“Please,” he says softly, so he doesn’t cause a scene. “I just want to talk.”
I stop and look at him for a moment, wondering if that’s smart, since every time we talk, it ends in us fucking or fighting, but I decide he’s right. We do need to talk. We both have things we need to say, and it might as well happen now so we can get it over with. Neither of us is going anywhere, so it will be good to clear the air.
“Okay, sure. We can talk.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
BRAXTON
When Kaylee agrees to talk to me, I sigh in relief. We’ve both fucked up, done shit neither of us is proud of, but being without her these past couple of weeks has proven one thing: I can’t be without her—and I don’t want to be.
Since it’s hard to go anywhere without being spotted, we go back to my place, but instead of taking her to my bedroom, we go out onto the balcony. I flip on the lights and guide her over to the lounge chairs. Neither of us says a word for several minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts. So much has happened. It would probably be easier for us to walk away from each other, but I can’t do it. I love her and always have.
Just as I’m about to tell her what I’m thinking, she speaks first.
“Without trust, we have nothing. And it’s clear you don’t trust me. For you to think after everything we’ve been through, when you were inside me only a couple of weeks ago, I would run to another man without so much as talking to you first proves that.
“And if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I trust you either because every time you get upset, you end up drinking and getting high, and I can’t be with someone like that.
“What you did at the hotel, the drinking and yelling and throwing shit? It’s what my dad did before he started to get violent...”
Her sad gray eyes meet mine, and I’ve never felt like more of a piece of shit than I do at this moment. I was so caught up in my anger, my hurt, I didn’t even stop to think about how it would affect her because of her past. In my drunken head, it was just a fight. I was pissed and reacted, but for someone who was raised in an abusive household, it went deeper than that for her.
“Kaylee, I’m—”
“You’re what? You’re sorry? That’s what he would say, the morning after...he would apologize and beg my mom for forgiveness. Sometimes, he would bring her roses and breakfast, and she would fall for it every time...because she loved him.”
I hate that she’s comparing me to her father, but I get it, so I don’t argue. Instead, I nod in understanding.
“I can’t be her,” she says, her words cracking with emotion. “I won’t be her.” The decisiveness in her eyes and in her tone fills me with pride. I have no doubt she loves me, but I believe she would walk away before she would allow what happened to her mom to happen to her, and I love her that much more because of it.
“I don’t want you to be her.” I edge closer and take her hands in mine, kissing the tops of her knuckles.
“So where do we go from here?”
“We fight.” I lock eyes with her. “We fight for each other because we love each other. And we’ll get through this.” I entwine our fingers and tug her into a standing position, guiding her back into the house. I head straight for the kitchen and, with her hand still in mine, use my other one to open each of the cabinets, pulling bottles of liquor from them and dumping them into the trash. Next, I clear out the fridge.
Once that’s done, I take us upstairs to my room, where I grab the few bottles and a couple of joints on my dresser and drop them into my garbage.
“I’m not an addict,” I tell her. “But I do use it as an escape, and I will never do that again. If I have to see a therapist or go to AA to prove it to you, I will.” I grab her other hand and pull her close to me. “I won’t lose you over alcohol and drugs.”
“It’s not that easy,” she argues.
“No, it’s not,” I agree. “But I love you, and you love me, and I’ll fight for you, for us, every damn day if you fight right alongside me. And some days, when you don’t feel like you can fight, I’ll fight for us both.” I release her hand and cup her face. “And I know you’ll do the same.”