Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Chapter 15
Torn in Two
Chloe
It’s been two days. He hasn’t left my side once. We cry together, we exist together, but we don’t speak to each other. Maybe I should say that I don’t speak to him.
I have nothing to say. I haven’t been able to request to go home. It may say I’m masochistic, but I haven’t requested to leave because his care and attention are the only things keeping me together.
I’ve started going to the restroom on my own, but that’s about it. If I were left alone, I wouldn’t move to do much more than relieve myself, if that. Brodi has fed me each day, watching me closely to make sure I finish what he places in front of me.
I sleep most of the day. In my dreams, I can trust the arms I lie in. In my dreams, it doesn’t hurt so much.
“Chloe,” Brodi murmurs as I stare down at the toast and fruit he’s placed in front of me.
I don’t reply. I can’t. I’m afraid of what I’ll sound like. I don’t want him to hear my hurt. He may be watching it, but if I’m silent, he can’t hear it.
“Cee, baby?” he tries again.
I close my eyes against the soothing feel of the nickname he calls me. I loathe the fact that he still has the power to soothe me.
“I have to go out today. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” He reaches to brush a lock of hair from my face.
I flinch away. My anger returning. It’s the first real emotion I’ve felt in days. I latch on to it and let it loose.
I let my hands fly, connecting with his face. I can see the stunned look when I catch him with an accurate two piece. Anger fills his eyes, but he doesn’t react.
I can’t stop. I start to pound on his chest. I’m angry he won’t fight back or at least try to stop me.
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. Get out. Go to your baby mother and your child. Leave me the fuck alone. You stupid piece of shit,” I yell at him.
He puts his arms around my waist. When my arms get tired, and I can barely beat them against the hard muscles beneath his shirt, I shove at him tiredly. He presses his lips to my ear.
“She died. Addison was terminally ill. She died in the hospital the other day. Chloe has been with my mother for the last few days. I just wanted to check in,” he says.
I snort. “No, I’ve been here with you. Can’t you even keep our names straight?”
He pulls back, his jaw working. His gray eyes darken. I see that his lip is busted, and he’ll have a bruise on his cheek.
“Chloe Annie Hennessy. That’s my daughter’s name,” he says through tight lips.
It’s like he’s torn me in half. I don’t know how to feel about any of the information I’ve received in the last five minutes. It all starts to work through my brain.
“Please go,” I whisper.
He nods his head. Stepping back, his eyes remain on me. He looks as conflicted as I feel. As if he wants to stay but needs to go.
I won’t be here when he returns. I’m going home with or without his help. It’ll hurt more to get over this alone, but I think that’s for the best.
“I’ll see you later,” he says, almost in warning as if he has heard my thoughts.
I don’t respond. I turn my back to him, crossing my arms over my chest. I can sense when he stops his retreat. His eyes are on me, burning a hole in the back of my head, but I don’t acknowledge him.
“We will talk later,” he says, his voice firmer this time.
I flip him the bird. He snorts, but this time I’m left with the chill that enters the room once he’s gone. I shove the tray of food to the floor from the little table he placed in front of the bed.
“Son of a bitch,” I sob.
My body grows heavy and my knees weak. I climb onto the bed to cry out my tears before I start to figure out a way back home. Unfortunately, I pass out from exhaustion, wrapped in a blanket of my sorrow.
* * *
Gregor
“You love this woman?” my mother asks suspiciously as she looks at my bruised face.
“Yes.” I sigh. “I’ve hurt her repeatedly. This is my own doing.”
“I can understand her being hurt, but to place her hands on you,” my mother replies, pursing her lips.
“I deserve way more than this. She’s within her rights, believe me.”
“Nothing makes this okay,” she says firmly.
“We have a long past…” I pause. I can’t tell my mother Chloe and I were having trouble before this. I still need this engagement to look real. “We were working through that… I thought we could… I once left her pregnant, scared, and alone. She had no choice but to abort our child.”