Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
“I appreciate it,” I whisper, on the edge of tears yet again. If I could get my emotions in check, this might all go more smoothly. “It’s disgustingly complicated, to be honest with you. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I only know this isn’t for me. Maybe I need to take a little time off in general. Figure myself out.”
“That makes sense.” Is she hoping I won’t leave after all?
“I’m sorry to leave you hanging like this.”
“Don’t even worry about that. I don’t want you hanging around here when you’re unhappy just to avoid inconveniencing me. What kind of person would that make me?”
She swipes her hand under her eyes before jumping to her feet. “Okay. Let’s get this finished up so we can go grab dinner.” Since we’ve already packed up the kitchen, it only makes sense to go out to eat on what is now going to be our final night as roommates.
That went better than I expected—these things usually do, I guess. I build them up in my head until they seem completely unmanageable, only to find out there wasn’t nearly so much to worry about. I should have known Tessa wouldn’t pry too deep. She isn’t that kind of person.
Still, I can’t bring myself to feel happy. I know damn well my troubles are my fault. Ren warned me a long time ago that it was useless to care about him. But I insisted, didn’t I? Look where that insistence got me: dragging my feet back to my room so I can pack the rest of my closet before hauling everything back to my parents’ house, where I know they’re going to be overjoyed that I finally broke down and decided to go to Corium, following in Quinton’s path.
I can’t even be happy about that. I’m numb inside. I might as well be dead at this rate. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel anything again, and I’m not sure I want to, come to think of it. Not when feeling things only ends up getting me hurt.
I was so sure he would show up here. That he would never abandon me, not when he cares about me like he does. Or maybe he never cared about me at all. Maybe that’s why he fought so hard for so long to get me to stop wanting him. He looked at his options and decided sparing my feelings was better than flat-out telling me he thought I was hideous.
Then why did he take the risk of coming to you on your birthday?
I hate questions like this because they bring me hope. I need to get rid of my hope. I need to get rid of him entirely until there’s nothing left to remind me of who I thought he was. What I thought we’d have together.
It’s ironic, then, the idea of going to Corium since there will be reminders of him everywhere I turn. That’s where he tried to kill my brother—if he and my father are to be believed.
Maybe this is as good a time as any to start believing it, too. I might finally begin hardening my heart once and for all. So when I walk the halls where I was once so happy and full of hope, my heart racing as I sneaked around our home and Corium with the promise of a few minutes with him, I won’t freeze up in misery. It won’t be so difficult to look back on how naive I was. How foolish.
Ren tried to kill Quinton.
Ren never cared about me.
If he had, he wouldn’t have pushed my brother down the stairs.
Ren is not coming for me, now or ever.
I have to keep telling myself these things. I have to get control of my life and my heart, or I’ll end up constantly leaving myself open to mistakes like the one I made at the party. So mixed up, I had myself believing Ren… I can’t even let myself think about it anymore. It’s too shameful.
I lift my chin, blinking back the tears filling my eyes before reaching for a handful of items still hanging in the closet. No, I am not going to shed another tear over him.
I’m going to start living my life for me, which means admitting the past two semesters spent living as a so-called normal person outside my family’s world has left me dissatisfied. There I was, figuring I wanted a normal life, but then again, what is normal? It’s entirely relative.
And for the Rossi family, a normal life means following in the family’s footsteps.
I am a Rossi, for better or worse.
I work fast, pushing everything else aside in favor of focusing on the task at hand. Though no matter how quickly I pack, Tessa’s warning rings in the back of my head. I can’t outrun it any more than I can outrun my pain.