Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
“I’m not rigid,” Dad says as if he’s butthurt.
“You taught him bad habits,” she shoots back.
“I taught him all my superior ones.”
“Including arrogance and stiffness. I should applaud you.”
“Are you picking a fight, sweetheart?”
She smiles mischievously. “You think you can handle a fight, Aiden?”
As I listen to my parents bicker, Mum’s words keep playing over and over in my head.
I’m reminded of why I made this choice I hate more than if I were strapped to a bridge as every car in England rolled over me.
For her.
For her sanity.
Her well-being.
Her future.
I sacrificed my peace of mind for hers, and I realize now that I would do it again in a heartbeat if I ever got a redo.
Because I care about her, more than I even realized. I wouldn’t have done this for her if she hadn’t already carved herself a hole in the blackness of my heart.
“Dad?” I interrupt them before they end up in the guest room ripping each other’s clothes off.
“Yes?
“She wants me completely out of her life. I can’t and will not accept that, but I also don’t want to be the reason behind her worsening state, so what do I do?”
“Easy. You wait.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes. You’ll lay low and keep an eye on her until you believe she’s ready.”
“What if she’s never ready?”
“She will be. Ava’s strong and will bounce back. Besides.” Mum pats my shoulder. “She’s worth waiting for.”
She is.
Since she waited years for me to come around. I can do the same.
For as long as it takes.
41
AVA
“You need ice cream? More candy floss? Hugs?” Cecy asks from beside me, her eyes a pool of jade-colored kindness.
“Hugs, please.” I lean my head against her shoulder and wrap my arms around her middle as she holds me close.
I’ve been demanding a lot of hugs from everyone around me lately. Probably because I won’t get them as much as I’d like once I’m admitted to the institution in a few days.
To say I’m completely comfortable with that would be a massive lie, but I’m finally ready to undergo this experience on my own, even if a part of me will always dread the idea of putting that ‘mentally unstable’ label on myself.
“You want to watch another film?” Cecy asks as the credits for Mean Girls play on the screen.
“Sure.”
“Bridget Jones’s Diary’s second film?”
“Yup!”
“You’re so predictable.” She grins down at me as she scrolls through Netflix and then selects the film.
“I’m just religious about my comfort things.” I rub my face against her shoulder, fighting the onslaught of tears that I seem to be plagued with lately. “Thanks for coming at such short notice. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”
“Always. We’re ride or die, remember?”
“Hell yeah. Even if Jeremy hates me for confiscating you.”
She laughs. “He’ll live.”
“But will he live like a normal human being or will he live by blowing some shit up and ruining people’s existence?”
“He promised to behave.”
“Oooh. You’re taming him.”
“More like we’re in this together, you know? A relationship needs some compromises from both sides for it to work.”
“That’s only applicable if both parties are in their right state of mind. Pretty sure there’s an exception for insane partners.” I stare at the opening scene of the film but don’t register anything.
“Ava, you’re not insane,” Cecy tells me in a soft but firm voice.
“I’m just getting there?”
“Ava…”
“It’s okay. The first step of overcoming a hurdle is to admit it exists.”
For the past ten days, I’ve been thinking about all my freshly returned memories. About the turmoil and the paralyzing fear I felt during my marriage. I truly believed Eli when he said he’d kill me if I didn’t obey and follow his plan.
During the first two years of the marriage, I was scared he’d make good on his promise, and he didn’t make things better by forcing me into rehab, changing therapists and treatments, admitting me to the ward, and cutting me out of my clubbing circles.
The day when I held a knife and demanded he let me go was my tipping point, after a panic attack. But here’s what he doesn’t know, the reason behind that episode wasn’t only because my discontent had reached its peak. The actual trigger was that I saw a video of him at a party that I couldn’t attend—and he didn’t ask me to—because I was a mess.
At said party, Gemma touched his arm and openly flirted with him.
While he didn’t look particularly interested, he also didn’t attempt to push her away.
I was livid that he’d locked me up while he paraded around with other women. I was paranoid he’d soon bring a lover home and flaunt it in my face.
So even though I was frightened, I had to destroy him before he did the same to me. And most of all, I’d had enough of cowering from him. Like a bird trapped in a cage, I wanted to shatter the bars and fly out, even if my wings were broken in the process and I had to bleed all over the floor.