Total pages in book: 221
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
“Here we go again! Twisting things!”
“Gerwyn makes his own choices,” Ant says. “Just like you do.”
“Fine,” I snap. “And how about this, then?”
I pull the damning picture from my pocket and hold it out to him.
“GO ON!” I shout. “Explain that one!”
He looks horrified. Absolutely horrified, and I get a glimpse of the hurt little boy.
It takes him a second to find his voice.
“Where the hell did you get this? Did you go behind my back and meet up with my bitch of an excuse for a mother?!”
“No,” I say, and he smirks a nasty smirk.
“Ah, yes, of course. I imagine that was the crusader.”
“Don’t detract from the obvious, Ant! I look just like your fucking mother!”
He sneers. “You think I fell in love with you because you look like my fucking mother?! Have you any idea how sick that sounds?!”
“Have you any idea how sick it FEELS to see a picture of your fiancé’s mother and realise she’s your spitting fucking image?!”
He still looks so fucking genuine when his eyes land on mine.
“I wouldn’t see it that way. You look alike. Maybe that’s a deeply subconscious thing on my part, but I’d never considered it.”
“FUCK OFF! That’s bullshit!”
“IT’S NOT BULLSHIT!” he yells back, then calms himself down, bracing himself against the kitchen counter. “Look, baby, I’m sorry. Maybe I haven’t faced things about myself that I should have. Maybe I need some deeper-rooted therapy than I ever thought. Maybe I haven’t moved on from the little boy who lived through that horror for all those years, but I can do. Please, sweetheart, give me a chance and believe in me. I can do it. With your help, I can do it.”
Still, he seems so true and so real, just like always. His tone is so sad, and sounds so honest that I feel sorry for the child he must have been, living through so much.
That’s when I check myself, because he’s doing it again. I’m already being suckered back in.
“Please, princess,” he says. “Don’t throw us away. We’re worth way too much for that. I love you. You’re my goddess. I moved my career and my life and gave you everything I could give you. I declared my love for you right from the start, and it was the truth. I love you, Cass. Enough to do whatever it takes, and you could have been honest with me. Told me what you truly needed, and I’d have given it to you. I still will.”
There are so many thoughts whizzing through my mind. So many things I don’t believe anymore.
Did he really give up his career to be with me? I doubt that.
Did he really not realise that I look like his mother? I most definitely doubt that.
I doubt everything that comes from his lying fucking mouth.
“Cass,” he says, and steps closer. “Please, baby, please don’t leave me. I’ll get therapy. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I’m trying to be a better man and you’ve been helping me. I’ve never known love like I’ve felt with you. You’re the only woman I’ve ever trusted and ever wanted to be with, I swear. That’s a huge thing, sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You mean too much to me to ever let go.”
His arms are open, silently begging me to join him. His lip trembles, giving me a kick in the ribs. His eyes are ready to spill tears, showing the love he believes he feels for me.
Let’s test it, then.
“I’m pregnant,” I tell him, as calmly as I can.
It knocks him backwards.
“What?”
“I’m pregnant,” I repeat. “I went to the clinic this morning and did two tests.”
“What the hell?” he asks. “I thought you’ve been taking your pill? Have you been missing doses?”
I sneer at him. One so cold it matches his.
“Of course. My fault. Yes. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been getting so trashed on champagne that I’ve been sick constantly, retching up every morning with the room spinning?”
“I told you to go steady on the De Chante,” he says, and I sneer again.
“Yes. My fault again. Right. Thanks for that.”
He paces around shaking his head, struggling to comprehend it.
“You’re pregnant?”
“Yes.”
He takes a breath. “Ok, princess. Don’t worry. We can fix it.”
“Fix it?”
The look in his eyes makes it seem the most obvious thing in the world.
“Yes, you can get a termination, and we can try for a baby of our own. We were planning on it anyway, weren’t we? Just as soon as we’re married, we can start planning it properly this time.”
“You want me to get a termination?”
His stare is so firm.
“Of course, princess. Don’t you? Why would you want a baby that might not be mine? I sure wouldn’t. I wouldn’t want to bring up another man’s baby.”
He looks disgusted. So fucking disgusted.