Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
I can’t give her those things, and dwelling on it is pointless because she was never going to be mine.
Over the next two hours, I draft about five variations of responses to Adam. Four of them are the truth. The unburdening of my guilt and the muddied justification for it. I spill everything. The details of our time at the ranch. All the things that happened when I came home. I try to explain it in a way that makes sense. A way he’d understand. But that’s a fucking joke.
I can’t tell the truth without hurting them both. Adam will hate me, and Bianca will, too. But saying nothing isn’t an option at this point. In the end, I delete every draft and slam my laptop shut. I’ll need to talk to Adam eventually, but I need to speak with Bianca first.
I check the time on my phone, and an uneasy feeling grabs me when I realize she’s two hours late. I send her a quick text and open the nightstand drawer to put the laptop away. When I do, I notice my pistol and holster are missing, and so is the ammo.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, checking my phone for a response.
There’s nothing. I text her three more times over the next hour, but that hour rolls into two, and she still hasn’t shown.
My first thought is that something happened to her. Before I can think it through, I’m on a train to New York and then in a cab on my way to her school. As I get out and walk around, I realize it was a stupid fucking idea because she isn’t here at this time of night. Mom said she has family up here, but I don’t know who they are. I don’t know anything about Bianca’s life outside of me because that’s the way she keeps it. We’re all in our separate boxes, and I’m stuffed deep into her closet, hidden away from everyone else.
The truth is staring me in the face, whether or not I want to admit it. Adam has to be here. That’s why she’s not answering. Mom mentioned he comes to visit every two weeks. It’s been almost that long.
It makes me physically ill to acknowledge that I was inside her this morning, and tonight, he will be. I don’t want to think about it. I can’t fucking think about it. So I get in a cab, return to Bethesda, and do the next best thing. I hit a bottle of whiskey and a handful of pills and spend the next day doing the same thing.
When I miss our session, Kieran comes to check on me, and I can barely see straight. He looks me over in concern, dumps the rest of the whiskey down the sink, and forces me to eat a sandwich.
“What the fuck is going on with you?” he asks as I stare at the wall.
I shrug.
“Is this about Bianca?”
When I don’t respond, he sits on the bed beside me and sighs. “I could tell something is off with you two. I didn’t know what, and it’s not my place to ask. But I’m fucking worried about you.”
“She’s my brother’s fiancée.” I let the words roll off my tongue like it isn’t the most fucked-up thing I could possibly admit.
I wait for him to lecture me and tell me how stupid I am. How this could fuck up my discharge if the military finds out. Or any number of reasons I shouldn’t be admitting this. But Kieran doesn’t offer judgment, only his quiet observation.
“Shit, man. That’s rough.”
We sit in silence for a while before the words start tumbling out of my mouth. I don’t know why I’m telling him. I just want someone to wake me the fuck up, I guess. But Kieran is the wrong guy to confess to if you’re looking for penance.
“It sounds like you two have a complicated history,” he says.
“Yeah, I guess we do,” I mutter.
“Well.” He scrubs a hand across his jaw and sighs. “I’m not a goddamn psychic, but I think the answer to your problems is pretty simple. Is there a future with her? Is she ever going to leave him?”
I don’t have a response because he already knows. We both already know. Bianca will marry Adam, and whatever the fuck this is between us won’t change that.
“Cut the cord and save yourself,” Kieran says quietly. “While you still can.”
It’s early Monday morning when she opens the door to my room and slips inside. She chokes out my name when she sees me lying there, awake. Her body is stiff when she comes for me, like she already feels the wound I’m about to inflict.
I sit up, and my eyes roam over her tearstained face, her disheveled hair, and the sweatshirt that’s practically swallowing her whole. It’s been warm outside all week, and the only thing I can think is that she must have crawled out of bed with him and grabbed the first thing she saw.