Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
And it was only after she left that I found out the whole story.
“Your mother is disgusting, Lenora. An unfaithful bitch,” Beckham said, his voice cracking from emotion.
“Stop it,” I begged, pleaded.
“Look at what she’s done to my father!” His voice was hard, hateful. He tipped his chin toward his dad, who still sat on the couch. “Look at what the fuck she’s done to him, Lenora. And you wanted to defend her? You wanted to defend her without knowing the full story?” He shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing even more, this hardness moving across his face.
“You’re hurting. I understand. But please don’t do or say anything you’re going to regret later.” I probably shouldn’t have said the latter, but the words were already out, and I watched as his eyes widened ever-so-slightly before he regained his composure.
His jaw clenched, and he took a step back, slowly shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what was going on. I couldn’t believe what was going on either. The family was broken up. It was like I was thrown into this nightmare where everything I’d ever known was being ripped away from me.
“Do something I’ll regret?” He scoffed. “I already have by being part of your family.”
My heart hurt something fierce in that moment, at that comment.
“You’re just like her,” he said, and I felt the tears rush up. He knew how my mother was, how she’d been with me, and the fact that he said that cut me deep. “You want things to be smoothed over, things to go back to the way they were?”
I opened my mouth but snapped it closed, unsure what to say, unsure what I could say. The tears were already falling, because I knew where this was going. “You’re just like her, Lenora. It’s best that we will never have to see each other again, because looking at you only reminds me of her and what she did to my father. Looking into your blue eyes does nothing but piss me off and make me hate you.”
I felt like I’d been transferred to some different dimension, where this wasn’t the Beckham I’d always known.
“Come on, Dad,” Beckham said and curled his lip as he looked at me. “Let’s get the fuck out of here and get a beer. There’s nothing for us here anymore. Maybe there never was.”
And as he and his father started leaving, I found myself walking toward them and reaching out, taking hold of Beckham’s wrist and forcing him to stop. He looked over his shoulder at me, and all I saw was… nothing. Absolutely nothing reflected back at me.
“Beckham.” My voice hitched. “I don’t even know what’s going on right now. Please don’t leave.”
I felt the dejection from him, the distance. He pulled his arm away from me as if I’d burned his skin. “Just stay away from us,” Beckham said with so much hatred I couldn’t keep myself from crying out, the tears a steady flow down my cheeks.
“Beckham,” I whispered. What in the hell was going on right now?
The way he looked at me… it was as if he stared at the one person who ruined everything. My mother. He saw her in me. In this moment, I knew he was blinded by the hurt and betrayal, and I was the easiest target.
“Ah, fuck, Lenora,” Beckham said, pulling me back to the present and from my thoughts.
I realized I’d totally disconnected right then and there. I felt the tears sliding down my cheeks and quickly brushed them away. He moved closer, and I took a stuttering breath.
“You broke my heart, Beckham,” I finally admitted. I’d never spoken those words out loud.
He was by me a second later, embracing me. I didn’t stop him, didn’t push him away.
“I know,” was all he said, his arms wrapped tightly around me as he pulled me impossibly closer. “I fucked up so badly, Lenora. So badly.” His words were so soft I almost didn’t hear them. “I fucked up.”
Chapter Seven
Beckham
God, I’d forever regret how I hurt her.
I was the reason she was like this, crying, her body leaning against mine, the desperation and sadness in her voice all because of me. And it had taken her contacting me and six long damn months for me to try to rectify this. But she wasn’t pushing me away, didn’t tell me to fuck off. She let me hold her, and God it felt incredible.
I didn’t know how long we sat there, her leaning against my chest, seeking support, comfort, my arms around her body, listening to her start to calm down. But I’d hold her forever if that’s what it took, if that’s what she wanted.
It was only then that I pulled back slightly, looking into her face. I didn’t stop myself from lifting my hand and running my thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears. I wanted to kiss them away. I wanted to be the man who made sure she never felt like this ever again.