Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“So...umm, what else should you guys know? Oh, right, another frequently asked question I get from new viewers and subscribers is what HM stands for. That’s the initials I use for the boy I like – well, technically, he’s no boy now. He’s a man, and the only one I’ve been in love with. I was sixteen when I first met him, and yeah, that was it.”
A pretty, digitally drawn character popped up on the upper right corner of the screen as she spoke: dark haired and blue eyed, reminiscent of the whimsical figures of Gorjuss Girls, and with a red heart literally pinned to the puffed sleeve of her dress.
“He was, unfortunately, also my first heartbreak, and just recently, he broke my heart again, and it was just really...bad.”
The heart broke into pieces, and the animated girl started to cry.
“Everyone’s been telling me to forget him after what happened, and of course I know they’re only saying it because they care about me, and they want me to stop hurting.”
The animated scene flashed out, and the narration resumed as she started sticking strips of washi tape to the two-page spread, now halfway done.
“But honestly? I don’t want to. Because what he did to me? Why he hurt me? It’s not...oh sh—-” A beeping sound played out to drown out the girl’s swearing, and although the post-editing for the scene was good, it wasn’t enough. Any eagle-eyed viewer would’ve noticed the wet blotched marks that had suddenly appeared on the page...just as anyone with an iota of common sense would’ve known they were from the girl’s tears.
“Sorry about that.” The girl cleared her throat from behind the camera. “So, anyway, where was I? Her fingers drifted down on the page. “Oh, right, so these washis from Chamil Garden – aren’t they just gorgeous? They can be unbelievably hard to purchase – they sell out really fast, so I try not to overuse them.”
She reached for one of her King Jim sticker folders and began flipping through her assortment of sticker flakes. “I want to keep things real, and right now there’s nothing more real than what I feel—-”
A swift, hard push of a button on the remote control turned the TV off before the girl could finish what she was saying, and cold, empty silence reclaimed the vast living room in his suite.
He closed his eyes, but what he had just watched, what he had just heard – every damn second still lingered like a wound that he could not stop from bleeding.
HM...because Andreus was Hailey’s man.
AG...because she was Andreus’ girl.
That was how she had still thought of him, and of herself, even after finding out he had married someone else.
She had still thought of herself as his, and of him as hers, even when she had seen his teenage self on his knees, sucking an older man's cock.
A raw sound of torment escaped him, the pain forcing Andreus to sit up on the couch as he clutched his head in a futile bid to hang on to the threadbare remnants of his sanity.
I love you.
I love you, baby doll.
I love you.
I love you, Hallie.
He loved her more than his life, loved her more than any fucking thing in this world.
And she had always loved him back.
Even when he kept fucking things up between them, she had never left him.
Never stopped loving him.
Until now.
Chapter Ten
Helios called Andreus that same evening to remind him of their decision to attend Corpus Christi's grandest debutante ball, an annual fundraising event organized by the city's largest non-profit.
"Are you sure you want me to be there?"
"The fuck you're even asking that question for?" Helios asked irritably.
Andreus didn't have a chance to answer, since the other man had already hung up, and it was this, more than anything else, that had him realizing life still had to fucking go on.
There was the usual crowd gathered outside the ball's venue when Andreus got off his bike, but he didn't even flinch as tabloid reporters hurled out questions that were obviously meant to provoke him.
Did Monique Pratt divorce you because you couldn't get it up?
Did you suggest a threesome with another man, and your wife said no?
Did you pay her to be your wife to put an end to the rumors?
They could say anything they wanted about him, and he would never give a fuck. All that mattered was that their insults didn't extend to the people he loved.
Andreus had already steeled himself to face the same rejection and revulsion upon entering the ballroom, but it swiftly became apparent that he had vastly underestimated his family and friends' determination to protect him.
The people outside might be too rabid to listen to reason, but in this room, where wealth and power held the greatest sway—-
We're here for you, man.
It's horrible, the way they're treating you, Mr. Economou.