Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Oh, about that… “I want a divorce.”
Connor reared back as if I’d slapped him. He seemed to think about it a while and I watched his expression go from confused to fuming. “No.”
My head snapped up. “No?” Was he kidding? He had to be kidding. A stunned laugh escaped me. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he said and to my absolute dismay, I saw he was.
My brow lowered as I attempted to paste on a cool façade. “You said it yourself—it was a gag.”
“No.” He stood, shaking his head. “It wasn’t.”
Suddenly exhausted, I lifted my hands to cover my face and groaned. “I’m just trying to fix this mistake.” My hands fell from my brow and my eyes widened. “Why are you fighting this?”
He gaped at me a second before he opened his mouth and bellowed, “Because you’re worth fighting for.” Connor came undone. “Because I don’t want to lose you.” Frustration had him running a hand down his face and he looked at me, miserable. “Because I fucking love you, Emmy.”
Goddammit.
It was everything I ever wanted to hear from him. Unfortunately, it came at the wrong time. “No, you don’t, Connor, and that’s okay.” I tried to be reasonable. “You use me as a crutch, that’s all. I don’t know what it is about me that you think you need but you don’t, sweetie. You were doing fine before I ever came along.” My voice was small and the words I spoke next slayed me. “I don’t regret loving you. I know you needed it.”
Then, silence. It coated us, choking us like a hangman’s noose, and I tried not to show how this encounter was killing me. Pure misery occupied the air around us.
Dejected, he asked, “Do you still love me?”
What does that have to do with anything?
I wasn’t honest in the least. “I don’t know.”
He smiled hopefully. “That’s not a no.”
A wave of sadness overcame me. I blinked rapidly, attempting to clear my misting eyes and I made to walk away. “I can’t do this. You need to go.”
“Baby, please.” The desperation in his tone stopped me. When I faced him and he saw my tears, he slowly closed his eyes. When he spoke again, he did it carefully and the words hit me hard. “I wasn’t ready for you. I didn’t want to love you. I got scared and did what I’d done my whole life—I sabotaged a good thing.” He held out a hand to me. “I’m so sorry.”
Connor slaughtered me with every word. It was hard to speak through the thickness in my throat. “You’ll hear from my lawyer.”
His hand fell to his side and, surprisingly, he nodded. “Yeah, okay. All right.” I was stunned when his lip twitched. “I gotta tell ya though, Rita’s bomb at what she does.”
What did he just say?
My heart skipped a beat. “Is that a threat?”
“No.” His smiled turned into a grin. “Just a warning.”
The ass.
I was getting mad. “You need to leave.” Without hesitation, he moved past me and I followed him down the hall. When he reached the door, he stilled and turned to face me. He looked like he wanted to say something. All I wanted was for him to go. “What is it?”
The jerk smiled at my clear agitation but that smile fell quickly. He looked unsure a moment then, whisper soft, he asked, “Can I hug you?”
No.
He waited.
No.
And waited.
No, Emmy.
My nod was barely there.
Emily! Jesus!
Connor pulled me into his arms and pressure instantly built in my ears. The warmth of his body both broke and healed me simultaneously. I shut my eyes tightly but the feeling was too strong. My breath hitched and my body shook. The traitorous tears escaped and I wanted to die because it felt so right.
Connor held me while I cried, cradling the back of my head, pulling me into his chest and if we were pressed any closer, I was afraid we’d merge into one person. My arms around him, I clutched at his tee and sobbed openly.
I missed him so much it hurt. It physically hurt. Every day without him was agony.
Connor pulled back and I attempted to hide my face behind my hands. “Hey.” As gently as he could, he extracted them and held my wrists in his hands. “Hey, look at me.”
When I did and saw his lashes were damp, I broke down all over again. “It hurts.”
“Of course, it hurts.” A single tear trailed his cheek. “It was real.” He swiped at his cheek then took my face between his hands, looked me in the eye, and vowed, “I am not letting you go. I’m gonna fight hard, baby.” He sniffed. “I’ll fight dirty if I have to.”
“No,” I wept. “Don’t.”
Didn’t he understand? I wouldn’t survive it.
“Yes.” He pressed a hard kiss to my lips. “Yes.” His forehead came to rest against mine. “I just need you to remember one thing, okay? Something important.”