Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Daimon, I miss her so fucking much. God, Daimon, my mom is dead,” I said, softly wailing.
I laid bare all that was inside me, exposing everything within me. He was right. I had hidden my sadness deep inside, putting all the blame on me, all because I missed her.
A Change
I opened my eyes to bright sunlight filtering into our bedroom. My head was pounding as parts of yesterday flooded back. Daimon had cleaned us up and taken me to bed. Lying in bed remembering his words, the weight on my heart had lifted a little. I realized how much I held onto in order to keep her memory alive. I buried myself in work and self-loathing, blaming myself so I could feel closer to her. After yesterday, I knew I was beginning to let go. That the heavy dark cloud which followed me everywhere was slowly disappearing.
I eased myself up, still queasy from the night before. I hadn't eaten anything and felt sick to my stomach. Drako whimpered at the sight of me. I knelt down, my knees hurting, presumably from falling onto them. My feet ached, but Daimon had put Band-Aids on my cuts. Dressing as quickly as I could, I hoped Daimon was still home.
“Mrs. Evans?” Ana smiled the moment she saw me. “Mr. Evans said you were not feeling well and to not disturb you.”
“Is Mr. Evans home?” I asked, my voice hoarse and dry.
“Yes, Mr. Evans is home.” His voice had me pausing. Daimon came out of the kitchen area holding a bottle of water. He twisted the cap and handed it to me.
“Ana,” he said. Immediately, Ana bowed and left us alone.
“Shouldn't you be at work?” I asked nervously, not looking at him, ashamed at how he saw me yesterday.
“Couldn’t exactly leave you alone,” he said flatly.
I walked down the rest of the stairs and made my way next to him. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said softly.
“Are you better?” he asked, an edge to his voice.
I walked over to the couch and sat down. “Can you sit down please?” I asked quietly, still not looking at him.
All I saw were his bare feet and the bottom of his jeans. I took a sip of water, my stomach protesting, but I held back my nausea. Daimon pushed the coffee table aside and sat down on it, facing me.
“About yesterday, t-thank you,” I stammered as I finally looked up at his sky-blue eyes. A sense of shame washed over me. “I never once told anyone all the things I told you. You are the only one who knows the truth about me and how I feel about my mom's death. I just wanted to say thank you for helping me see what I was doing. I mean I'm not better, but I understand and feel like a change happened, and I'm just saying I think it was because of you,” I rambled nervously.
Daimon made me face something I couldn’t deal with for over ten years. He lent me his strength and made me see the errors of my ways. Daimon helped change me.
“You are to never do that again,” he hissed angrily. “Have you any idea…” He let out a breath and dragged his fingers through his lush hair. “I thought—”
“You thought I left,” I said sheepishly.
“It was early morning. I looked all over for you and you weren't there. Your phone was off and I didn't have a fucking clue where you were!”
“I’m sorry. I promise I won't do it again.” I looked back down, nervously playing with my fingers.
“I nearly lost a year’s worth of work because of you,” he continued.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I said regretfully.
“I’m going to fire Ted. That man can't keep you safe,” Daimon barked.
“What? No! I promised him you wouldn't do that. Daimon, what I do isn't his fault,” I pleaded.
“I can't ever feel what I felt yesterday. Do you hear me? Never again,” he snapped.
“Never again,” I nodded in agreement. I looked up, his face anguished and angry.
“Daimon?”
“What?” he relented, letting out a breath.
I leaned forward and softly kissed his lips. I pulled back and smiled. “Thank you.” Daimon looked somewhat taken aback.
“Addie, I don't want to see you hurting like that,” he said sadly.
“You won't,” I promised. My phone rang. I looked at him.
“What? Of course I turned it back on! I'm putting a tracking app on it,” Daimon noted.
I stood, still feeling sick as I walked over to the counter. I looked down. It was his mother.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Addie, it’s Deidra.” She sounded somewhat happy.
“Hi, how are you?” I asked.
“I’m good. I'm just calling to check up on you two. Is everything okay? How's Daimon?” she asked.
“We’re very well and he's good too,” I replied. Daimon turned his head and narrowed his eyes.
“I'm going to assume my Daimon is there; that's why you’re not able to talk,” she said knowingly.