Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I see the way he watches me, every time he touches me, as though I might burst into tears at any moment. Our relationship is... I don't know what it is, and it seems so trivial right now. I left him for a reason, but everything has changed now. I don't even know if I still love him. I don't think I'm capable of feeling anymore. As for Jude... if he didn't love me before, then he definitely doesn't now. Who would? I'm damaged goods, sullied, fucked by the very man he hates. I'm no longer the innocent girl he craved so badly. I'm darker than he is. Tainted beyond measure. Everything that happened to me has changed me. I can feel it, like a snake coiled around my neck, this numbness beckoning me into its dark depths, and I embrace it. I welcome it because it means I don't have to feel, and that allows me to survive.
Jude stirs. His lips brush my shoulder in a whisper of a kiss before he rolls away, releasing me. I hear him get up and go to the bathroom, and I take the chance to leave the room. I make my way through the house, passing Caleb's bedroom door. I don't look at it, I never do. Caleb is the only thing that breaks through this fog I've surrounded myself with, the pain of his loss so acute; it could break through steel walls.
The entire house seems to be under this somber cloud. It's quiet, too quiet. The usual sports games blaring from the TV's, followed by the raucous shouting is notably absent.
I go into the kitchen and see Marney sitting at the breakfast bar. I like being around Marney; he has this way about him. He's the only one who doesn't look at me like I'm a victim. He looks at me like I'm a survivor, a fighter. He treats me like he has always treated me, well, perhaps he's a little nicer. He was an arsehole to me before.
"Mornin'." He lowers the paper from in front of his face and blows out a slow stream of smoke from his cigarette.
"Hey." I grab a mug from one of the cupboards and pour a cup of coffee from the pot.
I turn around and hop up on the counter. Jude's oversized t-shirt falls to my knees like a dress.
I pick up the mug of coffee and clasp it in both hands.
"You told him yet?" Marney asks without taking his eyes from the paper.
He asked me the same thing yesterday and the day before. I really wish he didn't know. "Not yet," I sigh.
Usually, he just nods, but today he lifts his eyes to mine. "Gonna have to tell him some time, little darlin'."
"I know," I whisper. "But he's not ready to hear it."
He glances back down at his paper, propping his elbows on the breakfast bar. "He's not ready to hear it, or you're not ready to say it?" he mumbles.
I don't answer him because it's both, and honestly, I don't even know what I'm going to do at this stage. It's something I can't deal with right now; my mind can barely muster the ability to care at all.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Fine."
"I know you don't wanna talk 'bout it, but if you ever need to..." he trails off.
"I need to forget, Marney," I whisper.
He peeks over the paper at me; his lips pressed together. "Ain't no forgetting, darlin', just surviving."
He's right, and this is what I like about him. He doesn't tell me it will be okay. He doesn't pretend there will be a day where this will all be a distant memory because there won't. Survival is all any of us have in this fucked up world.
"Evolve to survive," I whisper to myself.
He narrows his eyes at me and gives me a stiff nod. "Do what you gotta do." A small smile pulls at my lips, and we sit in silence for a moment.
"You gonna eat today?" Marney asks as he narrows his eyes at me. Ever since I came back, I have no appetite. Every time I eat, I feel like I'm going to throw up. Jude watches me like a child, but Marney knowing what he knows, may actually be worse.
I roll my eyes. "I have coffee." I try and avoid his scrutinous eyes.
"I'll make you something." He says getting up. "No arguing little darlin'."
I smile and hold up my hands in surrender.
"Oh," he stops me as he pulls something from his pocket. "Here."
I stare at the small silver hummingbird on the delicate chain, and he drops it into my palm. "Where did you find it?" I ask, my voice shaking.
"Dangling on the rearview mirror. Why you women hang shit up on that thing, I'll never understand." He shuffles into the kitchen and opens the fridge.