Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
"I need you to leave. Brant and I ... we want a family. A life together, without you. But I swear that I will never forget you, and I will always miss you."
He looks down and his hands clench into fists as his mouth tightens into a flat line. When he finally lifts his chin, his eyes are wet, his face red with emotion, and we stare at each other.
I do love him. I must. Otherwise I wouldn't be breaking right now.
He pushes to his feet and walks over to the couch, then lies down on his back and closes his eyes. "Call the doc back, Lucky. Let him take me out."
I swallow. "You're leaving?”
He shrugged his shoulders without looking up. "According to him, I can let go. Go wander in lala-land or disappear into Brant somewhere. Dissolve into fucking nothing. I'll let him walk me through the process. You don’t need to be here for it."
I want desperately to hug him. I want him to wrap his strong arms around me and kiss me and give me one last moment. I want him to hold me against him like he can't get enough and a part of me doesn't care if that moment breaks him.
Instead, I stand up. "I'll look for you in Brant. He could use a little more Lee."
"Yeah. Whatever, Lucky."
I walk to the door and stand there for a moment, waiting to see if he'll look up, give me one last moment of contact, but he doesn't. He keeps his eyes closed and I never get a final look at them.
I open the door and leave a part of my heart in the room.
Chapter 86
It's been almost four hours, and I’m still waiting. I'm in the lounge area on the other side of the observation room, a solid door keeping me from knowing what is happening between the doctor and Lee—or Brant. Lee/Brant. I couldn't watch their discussion, and honestly, I really don't want to know what is said. Right now, I left things solid. I was somewhat firm with him. I didn’t sleep with him, at least. One gold star on my horrible report card. Maybe not gold. A silver star. A check mark. C+.
I pace across the Persian carpet and ruin my manicure with my teeth. I sit on the loveseat and flip through channels on the television, watching a few minutes of one channel, then another, then turn off the set. There was a full bowl of red foil chocolates on the coffee table that is now half full, and I'm gnashing through one of the peanut butter ones now.
I've reached a new level of jittery. This feels like a bad night in college when Dianna Forge held an Uppers and Manicures party, and it was all fun and games until everyone passed out and I was the only one awake. The uppers wore off and depression nosedived me into a black hole of despair, and I was staring at her manicure scissors and considering the effects of using them on the thin skin on my inner wrists.
This is different, the cause isn't from a pharmaceutical mix of stupidity, but the result is similar. An avalanche of all of my mistakes and the issues that are facing Brant and me.
What if the company gets taken from him?
What if Jillian decides to kamikaze this situation?
What if Brant never forgives me?
What if Lee doesn't leave?
What if he leaves and I'm not happy with the new person that Brant is?
What if another, different personality arrives instead?
The waiting is insufferable, as is the unknown variable of whether my future husband comes back as two men or one.
At four and a half hours, I can't take anymore. I go into the observation room long enough to jot a note down to Dr. Terra that I am heading to Windere and to call me when they are finished. I take Brant's car and drive straight home.
The house is like a funeral home. A brightly lit one with a million-dollar view, fresh flowers in every room, and dread hanging thick in the air. The staff smiles a hello as I walk straight to the elevator and take it up to our suite. I skip the shower and crawl into bed fully dressed. I call out a command to close the blinds and the system whirs into motion. The room darkens into pitch black, and the hum of the fan is like a lullaby. I close my eyes, my legs twitchy and aching from pacing, and wrap the soft upper blanket around myself. Willing my mind to stop moving, I say a long prayer for Brant.
Somewhere during the prayer, I fall asleep.
My cell goes off and my body jerks into consciousness. I kick off the blanket and run my hands over the covers, finding the phone. I answer it while moving off the bed and I call out for the lights as I reach for my shoes. The lamps beside the bed glow to life. "Hello."