Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
I stroke the hip of my creation, then pause. “Maybe it already has.”
“Oh?”
“Hey, Uncle.” Stroke, swipe, stroke. “You always told me it’s okay not to be like the other kids and that I’m not broken. You said that just because my mind is wired differently doesn’t mean I’m any less than them. In fact, it means I’m more special.”
“That’s true.”
“So why the fuck doesn’t she see that?”
“She?”
“A certain thorn in my side who’s accusing me of being empty and a disaster to the tedious emotion called empathy.”
“And you care about her opinion?”
“No…I don’t know.”
“Then you probably do.”
“How do I stop caring?”
Uncle laughs.
I narrow my eyes. “This isn’t funny.”
“It is to an extent. You sound childlike with your emotions. But at any rate, if you want to keep her, you need to practice empathy.”
“No, thanks.”
“Then let her go and go back to your shallow encounters with people you barely remember come morning. That way, you won’t have to care for the rest of your life and will be able to wear the emptiness she previously filled as a badge.”
My movements stop, fingers resting on the hip. “How do you know she filled the emptiness?”
“Your Aunt Elsa does that for me. In fact, so does your mother for your father.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Your father wasn’t always put together, which is why he was a bit strict with you growing up. He didn’t want you to make the same mistakes he did.”
I didn’t know that. That must have been what he meant when he once said that he didn’t want me to regret my decisions after I grew up.
To which I naturally replied that I don’t do regrets.
Uncle Aiden continues, “That feeling of emptiness is a morbid emotion that eats you alive more and more the older you get, and unless you find someone to fill it, you’re irrevocably fucked. Sooner or later, you’ll succumb to higher felonies to reach that temporary reprieve that never lasts and will eventually self-destruct.”
I retrieve a cigarette, stuff it in my mouth, then light it. “I’m entirely uninterested in practicing empathy.”
“That makes sense since it doesn’t come naturally to you. But you have to think about whether or not you’re ready to succumb to a fundamentally bleak path just because you refuse to change.”
“I don’t know how the fuck to practice empathy.”
“Did you ever find yourself refraining from ruining or hurting something or someone she cares about because you understood that it would hurt her?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s a small step forward. You need to see the situation from her perspective first, not from yours. You have to shackle your instincts as much as possible.”
“You mean like I did whenever I wanted to hurt Bran and Glyn while growing up and directed that energy toward punishing those who hurt them?”
“Something like that. In fact, it’s best to have Bran give you advice on your relationship with her.”
“The prude who barely has any sex? Pass.”
“A relationship isn’t about sex, Lan. That’s a physical need that I’m sure you excel at. The emotional side, however, is your biggest weakness.”
“And Bran’s strength.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement.
“Remember what I told you when you were younger?”
“Bran feels too much and I feel too little, which is why we balance each other out.”
“Exactly.”
“He’ll never help me, Uncle.”
“Did you ask?”
No, I didn’t.
But as I look at my brother and sister, I fully understand the meaning behind Uncle Aiden’s words.
I, Landon King, lack something my siblings have in excess, and while I’ve always seen that as a power, maybe I need to reshuffle my cards.
“It’s pointless telling him all this, little princess,” Bran says. “He’ll never get it.”
“I do.”
Both Bran and Glyn look at me as if I’m being possessed by a demon who’s been expelled from hell for his friendly behavior.
“Is this a joke?” Glyn asks cautiously.
“When have I ever joked?” I grab both their shoulders. “I’ll make the effort.”
“Why?” Bran asks.
“Because you’re my family.” I smile. “In return, I might ask you a couple of things during the day.”
“Couple of things?”
“About how to practice empathy.”
Bran smiles. I don’t.
I know I won’t like this one fucking bit. In fact, my beast roars at the idea of being shackled, even if temporarily, but if it’s the price I have to pay for my little muse, then so be it.
26
MIA
“Good one. You’ve somehow managed to trap me.” Mr. Whitby—Frank, as he insisted I call him—nods in approval at my move.
We’re sitting in the empty club, only accompanied by the howling wind outside. Since it’s early afternoon, I’m safe from encountering the other members' snobbishness.
Let’s say the women became even more dismissive of me after they saw me coming here with Landon. Apparently, I’m the ‘snob’ who doesn’t deserve the ‘exceedingly charming’ Landon’s company.
He’s got them all buying into his act. Hook, line, and sinker.
At any rate, to avoid any inevitable confrontation, I texted Frank and asked if he was free for a quick game. Since he’s the perfect gentleman, he agreed. Pretty sure I hauled him from his very important gardening class, considering the smudge of dirt on the edge of his cuff.