Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Uncomfortable is an understatement for what I’m feeling. Since the moment I arrived thirty minutes ago, there have been few words spoken, but I guess you really don’t need words when you can see every single unsaid statement written on each of their faces.
Shawn, Bre’s husband, looks about as uncomfortable as I feel, as he keeps his head down and his eyes on the plate in front of him. His wife hasn’t taken her eyes off me for more than a few seconds, like she expects me to either wig out or disappear into thin air in front of her eyes.
Austin’s mom, who greeted me with a very quiet ‘hello’, which felt more like a dismissal, has been looking at her son like he invited the devil to dine with them, while Austin’s dad has attempted to keep the mood light with small talk.
“Austin said you bought Larry’s office space. Is that right?” Bruce, Austin’s dad, asks, taking a drink from his beer.
“I close in a week, if all the paperwork goes through” I explain lightly, hearing a hum from Shayla, Austin’s mom.
“Are you sticking around this time?” she asks after a moment.
There it is—the giant elephant in the room has just sat down at the table and joined us for dinner.
“That’s the plan,” I say quietly, feeling Austin’s hand on my thigh tighten almost painfully, like he also expects me to run away.
“Hmmm,” she hums again, looking between her son and me.
“That’s new for you, the whole sticking around thing, isn’t it?” Bre asks, while her husband turns to look at her, muttering something under his breath.
“It’s just a question,” she replies, frowning at him.
The urge to get up from the table is so strong that my muscles bunch in anticipation. I fight it back, taking a drink of my wine, trying to avoid gulping the whole glass down. I don’t need them to think I’m a lush, on top of being a flake.
I know they have a right to be concerned, but I still hate feeling the way I do, like every fear I ever had at eighteen, every choice I made, even unselfishly, has caused this.
“Watch it,” Austin growls as I set my wine glass on the table, trying not to let them see the way my hand is shaking.
“It’s okay,” I say, resting my hand over his on my thigh and intertwining my fingers between his. “I love your son, your brother,” I say, knowing that it’s stupid to say it to them, when I haven’t even told Austin how I feel about him. But I feel stuck and hope that if I lay my cards on the table, they will understand just how much he means to me.
“I know I acted foolishly when I left, but I was young and never wanted him to have to choose between me and the rest of his life. I was afraid that one day I was going to wake up and he wasn’t going to be there, either in following his path for the future or having that dream rip us apart, because I forced him into a life he didn’t want to have.” I lower my eyes to the table, mumbling quietly, “I’m sorry for hurting him.”
His hand on my thigh tightens almost painfully and I feel tears spring to my eyes. “Sorry,” I whisper, get up from the table, and pass the couches that Austin’s parents delivered. The dark blue velvet material looks amazing against the backdrop of the view, but I don’t see it as I storm by, because my eyes are full of tears.
Going into the bathroom, I shut the door without even turning on the light and slide to the floor, wrapping my arms around my legs and pressing my forehead into my knees as silent tears wrack my body. Breathing in deep, shuddering breaths I try to fill my lungs with enough oxygen that my tears will die down, but nothing seems to be working. There’s a tap on the door, then my body is moving as the light turns on and the door pushes in.
“Shhh.” Austin pulls me into his arms, settling me on his lap as he sits on the floor, making me cry harder.
“I’m sorry,” I get out through the tears clogging my throat.
“Baby, you’re killing me right now.”
“You should be out there with your family,” I sob into his shirt, pulling him closer to me as I realize I don’t have any family. I’m alone, adrift at sea, fighting to breathe, with no one there to rescue me.
“I love you, Lea. I always have and will, even in death. You’re my family, and I’m yours.”
His words pull me to the surface so fast that my heart erupts inside my chest, filling my lungs with oxygen and forcing the darkness that was settling inside of me out. “How can you say you love me after the way I left?”