Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I saw my dads exchange a secret “parent” look before I curled into a fetal position in the middle of the queen-sized bed.
“You’re not the type who gives up easy. What makes you think it’s over for good?” Dad asked.
I sat up again and leaned against the headboard. “Maybe it’s not. He’s right about a few things, though. We’re very different and working together would be tough. I thought we were good at it, but what do I know? I just…I thought he was the one. I don’t think there’s a single other person on the planet who can put up with me.”
“Char, I know you’re hurting, so I’m going to try to say this in the gentlest way possible,” Gray said, motioning for me to get my feet off the bed. “Sometimes it’s not about you. Sometimes it’s the other guy. You forget that you’re a bit…”
“Annoying?” I suggested.
“Extraordinary,” Dad intercepted. “You always have been. You have an old soul, Char. When you showed up on my doorstep, my mom said you were an angel. Grandma said you must be someone special, because ordinary people aren’t as strong as you. They lack courage and they forget their gifts because it’s hard to be yourself. You just…you’ve never had that problem. God, I wish I was like you.”
Gray shot an alarmed look at Dad when his voice hitched. “Seb…”
Dad shook his head and continued. “It’s true. You’ve been fighting since day one. You want justice and freedom, and you want to know that the righteous win in the end. But it’s not always that simple, Char.”
“I know. I wish I could fade a little sometimes. Maybe mute my edges so I wasn’t so…much. Maybe I could learn when to push and when to let go,” I said softly.
“Gray, do you mind if…?”
“Sure.”
Gray set a comforting hand on my ankle, then reached for Dad’s hand and squeezed his fingers before closing the door behind him. When we were alone, my father hopped onto the corner of the mattress and leaned forward.
“Don’t let go,” he said fiercely. “Don’t ever let go. Don’t ever lose or mute the part of you that goes for exactly what he wants and holds on for dear life. Learn from my mistakes, Char. If you love him, give him room…but don’t let go.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. “Did you let Gray go?”
“Yeah. I did. And this is a serious tangent, but I’m going to tell you something that I’ll never repeat again. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret what I lost. For myself and for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah, you. I know how much it hurt you when he left. You used to cry yourself to sleep and ask when he’d be home and—fuck, that was awful. And it was my fault. I’m sorry, Char. I’ve said it to Gray a million times and I think we’re good. But if I didn’t say it to you…I want you to know how sorry I am. I know I’ll never get another chance to make it right, but you do. Don’t ever stop being you.”
I launched myself into his arms and sobbed all over again. I composed myself after a few minutes and sighed. “You don’t have to apologize. If we changed the hard parts, we wouldn’t have Oliver or Justin or Zero…and I wouldn’t have met Ky. So, even though some parts suck, I think it was for the best. And Dad?”
He sniffed before standing, straightening his suit coat. “Yeah?”
“If I’m lucky, if I’m smart or brave, it’s because of you. So, thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Char.”
Ky
Zero had unanimously agreed we wanted to start our own label. The second Justin gave Charlie our okay, Charlie threw himself into the process of establishing the new entity. He hired a lawyer to navigate legalities and a financial consultant to help nail down the funding, and seemingly spent every day in important meetings while the band spent the bulk of our time in the studio with an engineer and producer.
Charlie rarely came by the studio. In fact, other than the occasional pop-in visit to run through business details, I didn’t see him at all. On one hand, I knew he was busy. We all were. But I also strongly suspected he did everything he could to avoid me or at least limit our contact. He was friendly and polite…and we were back at square one because I fucking hated friendly and polite. I hoped he’d come by and chat during one of my skateboard lessons with Ollie. But he hadn’t yet, and I was beginning to think I’d have to come up with something better on my own. Fast.
Skateboard wheels screeched against the pavement. I made a mental note to adjust them when Oliver sailed by me before coming to a wobbly stop at the end of the driveway.