Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“I’m not mad at you. I respect what you’re trying to do. It’s more than anyone’s ever done for me before. But …”
He pulls his hands away.
I feel my heart dropping. “Sean …”
“We tried this out between us for a while. We gave ourselves time together.” He closes his eyes. “I think we need to try some time apart now.”
I asked for this. I shouldn’t be angry. I shouldn’t fight it. I literally wanted him to be on his own and experience his own life and meet guys his age when it was all new. So why is every nerve in my body fighting to cling to him? Why am I hurt? Why am I feeling angry?
Do I feel guilty for keeping him to myself?
Am I just as selfish as every other man who came into his life?
Shouldn’t I support his decisions?
“Can I say something first?”
Sean looks at me, waiting.
I take a breath. “You are, and have always been, free to do what you want. I won’t stop you. But I won’t close my door, either. I’m keeping my promise to you, even still … even if you choose to get up from this table and go. I’m not pushing you away. I’m not getting rid of you. Think it over for a bit, Sean. Don’t be rash. You have all the time in the world to figure out what you want. It’s no one’s decision but yours.”
Sean looks away for a moment. His foot bounces in place under the table.
Then he says, “I need to go for a walk.”
Chapter 20 - Seany
I need to go for a walk?
Really?
I’ve made it all the way to the north end of the island, standing on the edge of a different kind of boardwalk that lines a rocky coast with the Hopewell Fair protruding into the water, along with a number of large houses and condos whose monthly mortgages I can’t even begin to fathom. I sit on the curb across from all of that, hugging my knees and staring at the sky. Distant chimes and cheers of games, rides, and people having fun float in the air.
I’ve had my little walk.
And I still don’t feel good about anything at all.
Not about the old lady finding me and looking like she secretly wanted to save me from Satan Cooper, who most certainly is not my uncle. Not about how Lily and SJ made me feel. Not about the phone in my pocket, nor this joke of a modeling career I think I’m starting now, nor my dream of someday feeling like a normal human being again.
The only thing I feel good about is Coop.
And I’m throwing that away, too.
He thinks I’ll be happier on my own with guys my age. I think he’ll be happier not having to deal with the constant judgment and handling of a messed up runaway like me. We were doomed since the night he foolishly decided to take me in. He didn’t ask for this. He didn’t even want this, not at first.
I wish I was more like the others I’ve met on the street. My life would be so much easier if I could just go with the flow, take everything that’s given to me no matter what it costs others, and bear zero guilt. I’d kick back in Cooper’s house and eat and drink my fill all damn summer. I’d take everything he gives me without the intention of paying back a cent. I would have laughed along with SJ and Lily, because if I was someone like that, I would have long since killed my emotions and felt nothing.
But I’m not that kind of guy.
I’m cursed with an annoying conscience or something.
An hour later, I notice Cooper hasn’t called me. Two hours later, still no call. It seems like the man is respecting my space. I think having a conscience is Coop’s curse, too. He’s too good of a man.
It’s early evening when I find myself at a familiar spot I don’t think I’ve been around since before I met Coop. It’s a gas station with an attached sandwich place, and right by the curb is a long bench with some lawyer’s advertisement slapped on the front. I crouch on the bench, my ass in the lawyer’s face, with my knees hugged to my chest as I lazily watch the occasional car go by.
One car stops at the red light in front of me, and in its backseat is some guy my age. He’s laughing at something that was just said in the car, happy tears in his eyes, when he looks over and catches my gaze. For some odd reason, I don’t look away. I just stare back at him, deadpan, ghoulish and blank. His face slowly relaxes as he watches me, for a moment looking hypnotized. I can’t say what he’s thinking, but I hear someone in the front ask everyone in the car if they want to hit up the club tonight. Everyone else in the car answers except him—his entire focus locked on me like I just became the most interesting thing in the world.