Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
She smiled, cleaning my face, too. “Sweetheart, it might be just you and me for some time.”
I shook my head. “No. Daddy is coming back.”
I knew it.
PRESENT
When I woke up, there were tears in my eyes. I tried to wipe them away, but they rolled down my checks anyway. It was so weird, like I had no control, even though I didn’t want to be crying. It was decades ago. I got out of bed and washed my face before trying to go back to bed to sleep. It was still five in the morning, but each time I did close my eyes, I kept seeing those memories again. I didn’t know anything back then, and I truly thought my dad was just going to come back when he was feeling better. But he never did.
“I’m going to give myself a headache,” I muttered and felt the urge to go to my mom’s room to just talk to her. But I didn’t want to bring these memories back to her. Nor did I want to talk to Augusta, for obvious reasons.
“I really have no other friends?” I frowned.
I did have friends, but we never talked about stuff like this or our family problems. Apparently, doing that was a sign of weakness. Rich and powerful people never spoke about family issues to outsiders. Ever.
Gale does, my mind reminded me. And I looked at my phone just sitting there. He’s not going to be awake, I thought but still reached for my phone and texted.
Are you awake?
There wasn’t a reply, and I felt disappointed even though I knew he wouldn’t be. “You’re a mess, Odette,” I confessed, tossing my phone to the side.
However, it vibrated just as it hit the sheets. And I dashed for it.
Yes. Thank you for saving me.
Saving you? How?
I went to work out with Iskandar this morning. The man is not human.
I laughed. It can’t be that bad.
We have been up since 3:30 a.m.
My mouth dropped open, and before I had the chance to type, that’s ridiculous, my phone began to ring. I started to panic before wondering why the hell I was panicking. Just answer the phone! I mentally yelled at myself before answering. “Hello?”
“Hi, good morning. Sorry, my arms are too heavy to keep typing,” Gale said between deep breaths.
“You have been working out for almost two hours?”
“It was not the time that was the problem. It was the intensity. I have no idea what has gotten into Iskandar. But he is still working out.”
“What? You’re right. He isn’t human. What do you call aliens in Ersovian?”
“Aliens.” He chuckled. “Never mind about him. Is anything wrong?”
“Why would anything be wrong?”
“I remember you sending me a letter explicitly explaining how you enjoy dreaming and not to wake you up. Yet now, you are up earlier than when I did. So why are you not dreaming, Odette?”
I was starting to regret that letter. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come out.
“Is it about me?”
“No,” I said quickly and sighed. “I’m not dreaming because each time I do, I keep remembering my dad.”
He was quiet, and when he spoke again, his voice was much softer. “I heard he passed last year.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see. “He had a heart attack. Well, the doctor said it was sudden cardiac death brought on by stress.”
“I am truly sorry,” he whispered. “Is that what’s keeping you up? You are thinking of him.”
“Yes, but not about his death,” I replied, lying back onto my pillows. “I keep remembering the day he left my mom.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Sorry, this is such a depressing conversation. I don’t mean to keep complaining to you—”
“Back home, no one ever talks about their issues or pain. Everyone just goes on as if nothing has hurt them, as if they are above it all. No one is honest about how they feel. It is refreshing to know you are so honest about yourself and your life.”
“Most people dislike that about me. They think I’m doing it for attention.”
He chuckled. “Maybe they are just not ready to be honest.”
“Maybe.”
“Is your father one of the men who hurt you?”
I froze. Why did I say that to him?
“My dad was a good father.”
“I never said he wasn’t.”
Both of us were silent for some time. He didn’t push me to speak, either.
And I finally felt strong enough to talk about it. “That day, I begged him not to go, but he left anyway. I told my mom that he’d come back. I was so sure he would. But I didn’t see him for months after. He called me, of course, but I didn’t see him until one day he picked me up to spend the weekend with him. I was so excited. But when I got to his house, there was Yvonne and my new baby sister.”