Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 63289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
He rubbed his finger along my thigh. “Due to my father leaving my mother, I as the dutiful son, picked my mother's side.”
“Did she ask you too?”
“No, but she didn't protest either.”
“Aww.”
“I was there when he sent her the divorce papers. She had been completely blindsided, thinking he was coming home that night for an elegant surprise birthday dinner.”
“Who's birthday?”
“His.”
For his birthday, he chose to pick the woman he was having an affair with.
Ethan sighed. “I held her all night and days later. I even remained at their home for a few weeks just to make sure she wouldn't hurt herself.”
“And did your father ever try to get in touch with you?”
“Every damned day. He left tons of messages telling me how sorry he was, and that he had to go with his heart because one day. . .he would be gone, so. . .he wanted to finally live.”
“I'm sorry, Ethan.”
“I never called him back.”
I placed my hand on top of his as he rubbed my thigh. “Can I tell you something?”
“Yes.”
“My father used to work as a night-shift security guard for the shopping mall near where we lived.” I squeezed his hand, not happy about going to this memory. “It wasn't the safest of places to be at night, or even in the day, but the pay was decent.”
Ethan took his other arm and wrapped it around me. “Tell me more.”
“He was responsible for patrolling the property and ensuring that everything was secure at night. He walked on foot and only had a flashlight and mace.”
“That wouldn't be enough to protect himself.”
“And it wasn't, when three kids decided to break into the mall.” My bottom lip quivered. “My father called 9-1-1, but they never came in time. Even the cops were nervous about coming to our area.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.” I gulped down sadness. “They found him two hours after the 9-1-1 call. Shot in the chest and leg. He bled out.”
“Jesus.” Ethan let go of my thigh and hugged me with both arms. “I am sorry, Maya. How old were you at the time?”
“Eleven years old.”
“Dear God.”
I sank in his embrace. “I was a wreck as a kid. I drowned in books. It was the only thing to keep me. . .okay. If that is the right word.”
“Is that why you write? To give others solace.”
“I never thought of it like that, but. . .maybe.” I placed my arms over his, hugging him back. “My mother ended up volunteering for 9-1-1 services so that no other family would ever have to deal with what we experienced. Eventually, they hired her on as a dispatcher. Either way, I didn't bring this up to make you sad. I wanted you to know that because of your father.”
“My father?”
“How you choose to deal with your mother and father's marriage is your business. And trust me, I get why you took your mother's side. It's hard for me not to be right there with her too, and I barely know her. But. . .”
“Yes?”
“Your father is still alive. And their marriage is theirs, not yours.” I turned my head to the side and put him in my view. “And I know that you love your father. . .a lot.”
He looked down at the bubbles. “I do.”
“You may be mad at him for how he has treated your mother, but you probably miss him too.”
“More than I am willing to admit.”
“Then, you must talk to him.”
He gave me a sad smile. “No one has ever said this to me. However, I doubt anyone would dare.”
“You can tell me to mind my business. I won't get mad.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I'm glad you said it. If we ever get out of this, then. . .”
“You'll call him.”
“I'll call him.”
“Good. It's a blessing that he is still here. There's only so much time you two will have left. Enjoy your father while you have him.”
I moved my view from him and rested the back of my head on his chest again.
Time.
How crazy was it that even talking about my father's death had brought the concept of time back up.
Even if we got out of this time loop, could we ever escape time?
Time, death, and love were so thoroughly interwoven within the human experience. Together, they formed an intricate web of emotion and meaning, reminding us once again of the fleeting nature of existence, the inevitability of our own mortality, and the enduring power of connections.
Ethan spoke, pulling me away from my thoughts. “Thank you, Maya.”
“It was nothing.”
“It was everything.”
I smiled. “Not many. . .”
“What?”
“Few people know about my father. Not Claire or Horace.”
“Why didn't you tell them?”
“Death depresses people. I didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
“True friends don't get uncomfortable when the person they love opens their heart and reveals something to them.”
“Perhaps, deep down inside I knew they weren't my true friends. I just never really allowed myself to admit it.”