Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
The latest one is the thought of losing her. I tried to be open with her once I found out that I liked her more than I was ready for. I immediately swung that door open, even though I was concerned and cautious about walking through it. I sat her down and let her know who I am. I tried to tell her the truth about me, the good, the bad, and the greedy. But there was something I didn’t tell her, and you know what that is, Lord. If I tell her the truth, she becomes a witness. A liability. Someone who can wave somethin’ awful over my head. She might hate me after I come clean, too. If I keep it from her, then I’m going against what I promised her: That she could trust me. And trust is everything.
Trust is big in my book. So much so, I ain’t even realize until a few months ago that I didn’t trust my mama, and it influenced how I saw women as a whole. That was a big, hard pill to swallow. After weeks of inner exploration, I can now admit that it was factual. Almost every relationship I had with a woman, I would start getting suspicious, and then either ghost them or cause so much trouble that they had no choice but to wash their hands of me. I would get emotionally jittery when I’d fall in love. It was because I knew that if they hurt me, it would hurt for a long ass time, and I’d get harder. Colder. More ruthless.
It started with my mama, and it never stopped. Sounds like a ME problem, though. That situation happened a long time ago, but it still cut deep. My mother loves me, and yes, she made her share of mistakes. She made mistakes in her marriage to my father, in her relationship with her children and even with herself, but that woman loves me and my brothers to her core—and some folks can’t say that about their mamas at all. She’s also a nice person. A good person. In today’s world, that’s pure gold. She just had to learn some lessons, and unfortunately, my brothers and I were sometimes in the crosshairs.
I associated what she did with being a woman… seeing her in some way, I suppose, as being weak and not thinkin’ of me, Dakota and Jordan. I hated her for taking my father’s side. I didn’t know how to articulate this until I got older, but I didn’t understand the true damage it caused. I didn’t give women a fair chance, and now, here I am, with a woman who deserves the sun and the entire universe, having to talk myself into something that could destroy my life, and our relationship… but I have to tell her what happened. I have to trust her enough to tell her the WHOLE DAMN TRUTH, AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH, SO HELP ME GOD…
“Aye baby,” he called out over the music she had probably turned up to full volume. He slowly closed his laptop that was resting on his lap and leaned slightly forward. “Genesis.”
Genesis swayed toward him, rocking on her ass. Her hips shifted, and she met his gaze with those gorgeous maple syrup eyes of hers.
“Yeah, honey?” She removed her pods, holding a bright pink bead between her thumb and forefinger.
“Okay, so, you know that you’re mainly here for us to talk about something that I was going to save for the weekend to discuss with you. You wanted to know tonight, and I get that. I’m prepared to chat about the situation with you now.” He took a deep breath and shifted his laptop onto the couch beside him. The smell of the strawberry and cream candles she’d purchased and lit in his home smelled suddenly sweeter. And rightly so, for what he was about to say was going to have such a visceral reaction from her, release such a horrid stench, that it would require something way stronger to cushion the blow. He closed his eyes, tapped his foot, and ran his hand along his forehead, trying to muster the strength.
“What’s wrong, Roman?”
He opened his eyes, heat spreading through his entire body.
“…So, there’s two things we need to discuss. The first is just me getting confirmation about something from you.”
“Okay.” She set the bead down and scratched her upper arm as her eyebrows furrowed. “What do you need me to confirm?”
“I know you said you wouldn’t speak of it, and you dropped hints about what I had said, too.” His gaze rested on her questioning eyes. “Please tell me exactly what I mumbled on the plane ride to Louisiana?”
She picked the pink bead up without looking at it and rolled it between her fingers. “You said a bunch of disjointed words… phrases, but you—”