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)
"Ms. Fairmont, this is Irene from Dr. Terra's office. He wanted me to tell you that he and Mr. Sharp are almost done."
"I'll be there in ten minutes. Thanks." I hang up the cell and step out of the bedroom into the hall, breaking into a jog. Soon, I’ll have him back. In whatever shape that comes in.
When Brant walks out of the office and toward the car, a wave of recognition and relief hits me. The weight of his shoulders, the haunted look that had appeared the day I ruined his life, is gone. His confidence is back, and I step out of the car and meet him halfway, surprised when he pulls me to him and plants a possessive kiss on my lips.
"Everything okay?" I ask.
His hand is still gripping my waist and he studies my face as if he hasn't seen it in a while. His mouth curves into a reassuring smile and I realize how long it has been since he looked happy. "We're good. Come on, we can talk in the car." He returns to my mouth without waiting for a response, my breath taken by the force of his kiss, stronger than I am used to from him, the type of kiss that guarantees a long and lengthy fuck the minute we step inside the house. He releases my waist but pulls on my hand, opening my door to the car.
"So, what happened?" I speak the moment the car is in drive, the hours of waiting and anxiety spilling out of me.
"Dr. Terra spoke to Lee and he agreed to leave."
I wait for more but he is silent, his blinker on as he waits at the light.
"And?" I finally ask.
"And he left."
I glance at the clock on the Aston Martin's dash. "It's been seven hours."
He frowns, his hands sliding effortlessly across the steering wheel as he downshifts, and the smooth motion reminds me of his hands across my skin, and the fact that we haven't had sex in over three weeks. "Seven hours?" He checks his watch. "Wow. I..." He glances at his watch again, then at the dash clock to verify. "He must have been with Lee longer than I realized."
I look away from him, out the window. "Dr. Terra didn't tell you what was involved in Lee leaving?" For you, I'll do it. I'll fucking kill myself inside of him. Lee's words come back to haunt me.
"No. I mean, other than the fact that Lee had to accept it. The likelihood of success is much more possible if he is a willing participant."
"So, he's gone now? Won't ever be back?" My words behave. They come out level and unaffected, like I don't care about losing him.
"I'm not cured. He's keeping me on this medication. My chances of reoccurrence are high, especially if my emotions or stress get out of control. And I'm supposed to avoid alcohol. You know that; you were there when he went through those rules."
I nod. Brant's new regimen involves lots of rules and structure and will be very different from the unpredictable life Jillian had given him. Brant's subconscious has grown used to creating additional personalities to take over when his mind feels overwhelmed. When he was young, Dr. Terra thinks it was because his brain couldn't handle the sudden pressure and expectations of his intelligence, the nonstop brain functions causing a short of sorts that resulted in another personality, one that was slower and stupider and emotionally unstable. When he was older, it happened when he was under extreme stress, or in strange situations, or anxious over something. It was no coincidence he had switched the night before his initial proposal to me. Or the days before a new product release or company merger. The likelihood of switches was amplified by the medications fed to him by Jillian—medications that increased his productivity and honed his ADHD but triggered his anxiety and stress. With the new rules, new structure, and the fact that he now knows of his condition, we are hoping for him to live a life that is relatively free of separate personas. Especially one troublesome sex machine who I already miss.
The ivy-covered walls of Windere move into view and he brakes at the entrance gate, waiting as it moves out of the way. He cups the back of my neck and threads his fingers through the mess of curls that spill over my shoulders. "You okay?"
I turn and look into his eyes, sinking into his warm and reassuring gaze. There's the man who I fell in love with. The man I want to marry. "Yes," I whisper. "I'm good."
He puts the car in park. Unbuckles his belt and leans forward. Pulls me forward until we are close. "I will be more," he says gruffly. "I'm going to be everything he was too."