Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 191421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 957(@200wpm)___ 766(@250wpm)___ 638(@300wpm)
He chuckles softly, lost in memories. “And I thought, fuck me. I thought, who the fuck is she? I thought, how is it that I’ve only now found her. The girl who’s not only pink and pretty like a fucking flower but also who writes in a diary. Like me.”
I blink. “What?”
His eyes are all liquid now, shiny and molten and deep pools of emotions. “I always hated it. Writing in a diary. Made me feel like a fucking pussy. But it was something that I picked up in a therapist’s office and it was so hard to break, the habit. But when I met you, like so many other things in my life, it didn’t feel so bad. It didn’t feel like a shameful thing. It felt like… connection. With you. It felt like something tied me to you. Something secret but powerful. Something like magic.
“But anyway, I stopped it. I stopped writing when everything happened because I didn’t want that connection anymore. I didn’t want to be tied to you. I didn’t deserve to be tied to you and that’s the thing, isn’t it? What I deserve. What I think I deserve. And what I think I deserve is not you.
“You were right,” he says, shifting on his feet. “When you said that I believe what the world believes about me. I believe all the lies, all the rumors. I believe that I’m a disappointment. And if I disappoint everyone, then what’s stopping me from disappointing you? What’s stopping me from breaking your heart, crushing your dreams and making you miserable? And I could bear anything in this world, Echo, anything at all but that: Disappointing you. Disappointing the girl who changed my world. Who made the sun rise on my dark, dark life. Who made me see everything through rose-colored glasses. Who fucking taught me that there are a hundred and fifty shades of pink. I mean, that wouldn’t have been fair, right? To her. To you. So I always thought my only option was to push you away. To keep you away. But that’s not true. There is one other option. Something that I didn’t think of. Not until now. Not until today.”
He puts his hand on his chest again. “And that’s instead of carrying you in my heart, carrying the place where we met the first time and the world turned pink, the world turned into something worth living in, I walk beside you. I take your hand and I walk this world with you. I care for you. I protect you. I keep you safe. I destroy every hurdle that comes your way. I kill everything that hurts you. The other option, Echo, is that I believe. You. That I believe you like you believe in me.”
His nostrils flare with a long breath.
A breath so long that even his throat moves with it, as he gulps it down.
His stomach contracts and moves with it as well.
“My father, when I was growing up, he tried to change me, see. He tried to make me into something that was acceptable to him. But I didn’t change. I made sure that I didn’t change. So I don’t know if I can change now, but I want to believe that I can. I want to believe that I can give you all the things that you deserve. That I can be whoever you want me to be. Or if not that, then I want to believe that I can fix it. Do you understand? That I can fix things for you. That I can fix what I break. I can fix all the tears that I’ll make you cry. I can fix all the times I’ll make you mad; all the times that we’ll fight because I’m acting like a jerk. I want to believe that I can make things right for you.
“And so, I promise you that I will. I will believe. It will be hard, and I will probably fuck up a million times. But I promise you that I’ll keep believing like you keep believing in me. I promise that I won’t give up like you don’t give up. I’ll have faith like you have faith. I promise you that I will change your world, Echo, like you changed mine. That I’ll turn every season into summer and every night into day. That I’ll feed you fucking watermelon and lemonade for the rest of your life. That I’ll keep you warm and in the sunshine. Or I’ll fucking die trying. And you know that I’ll keep my promise because it’s you who taught me that a promise is a bond, isn’t it? It’s a commitment and it’s an oath. A vow. And that’s my vow to you: to believe. So I guess…”
Raw and intense emotions move on his features for a few seconds.