Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
With his eyes still widening, he shakes his head, an apology from his subconscious before he has the chance to say the words himself.
“Get out!” I yell at him, feeling the weakness threatening to consume me. Threatening to bring me right back to him. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you here.”
“It’s going to be all right,” he says, attempting to calm me, that placating tone in his voice making me even angrier.
“Well, it’s not now, and you need to get the fuck out,” I say and seethe. I fold my arms across my chest as I look him in the eyes and tell him again. “I need space, and that means you’re leaving.” This townhouse is in both our names, I’m more than aware of that and he could easily bring that up. He has a right to be here and part of me wishes he would fight me on that, but he doesn’t. He stares at the ground for a moment, his broad shoulders rising slowly with each heavy breath. My body shakes as he snatches his keys off the counter and leaves, slamming the door behind him.
I try to convince myself as I move to the counter, bracing my hot palms on the cold granite and focusing on breathing. This is the worst it’s ever been between us. I know it’s the end of us. I can feel it deep down in my bones. Shattering my core.
Out of the need to move, to do something and just go through the motions, I reach for the bag on the counter.
It’s a mistake. Inside is a bottle of coffee creamer.
It’s so stupid that something like this could shred me. That it can make me fall to the floor. That it can make me feel like I’ve made the worst decision of my life.
That it makes me feel like I’m alone. And that it’s my fault for pushing Evan away.
Evan
It happened so slowly,
So slowly I couldn’t see.
She ruined me, damned me,
And brought me to my knees.
I can’t deny there was only one,
Only her for me.
One true love is a lie,
But with her, it has to be.
It’s odd how love was there right from the start and I didn’t even know it. Hindsight is twenty-twenty; I’ve made enough mistakes to know that. It doesn’t explain how I couldn’t see how obvious it was, right from the first night. Everything I did and said was different, everything I wanted changed.
My old bedroom in my father’s house reminds me of all the times I spent here, but more than anything it reminds me of the last time I was in here. When I was crying like a bitch on my bed, burying my head into the pillow and refusing to accept that my mother was dying.
The red plaid flannel sheets are tucked in tight. It feels like this room’s been frozen in time since I was here last. Kat fixed the sheets the same way when she made the bed the next morning. She held me all night. She let me cry and didn’t tell me to stop or tell me to do anything at all. She just loved me. Freely and for no good reason.
I think she loved me from the very beginning, though. Looking back on it all, I know I had to have loved her right from the moment she stepped out of that car. The door shut with a click and my heart was finally in motion.
I remember that first date we had a few days after we met. I could still feel the beat of the heavy music in the club pumping through my veins as I opened the door to my apartment on the edge of Brooklyn. I glanced over my shoulder to take a peek at her, knowing the alcohol was wearing off and what I wanted was more than obvious. Part of me expected her to back out of coming upstairs.
I could tell she was surprised by how nice my place was. Maybe I can credit her curiosity for why she gathered up the nerve to follow my lead. There was a lot of remodeling going on in the city and I spent my money wisely, always have. Investing in properties is what my father did when he had the chance. I learned from him, but did it on a much larger scale.
The second the door closed, my hands were all over her just like they had been in the taxi and in the club. We were drawn toward each other.
That’s why I think it was love. Lust is one thing. It comes and goes. The moment you’re filled and satisfied, disinterest takes its place. But that’s never been the case for us. There was always more. Even as we grew apart, it only made what could be that much more tempting.