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)
My confusion slowly clears when I find my wife lying on the sofa, snoring softly while wearing a dirty pink apron. Flour smudges her cheek and three of her fingers are wrapped in plasters.
Sam’s voice carries in the air. “She woke up at the crack of dawn with me and insisted on making you breakfast as long as I’d say I was the one who did it. She burned the first two attempts, but she kept trying to perfect her creations. She begged me not tell you who made the food, because, and I quote, ‘I hate him right now.’ End of quote.”
My lips curve in a smile as I sit on my haunches before her and stroke the plasters on her delicate hands. Hands that weren’t made for cooking or any chores. Ava is her papa’s spoiled princess and the apple of her mother’s eye. Not only that, but she’s adored by her grandparents and was tended to since a young age; therefore, she didn’t even consider learning how to cook.
And yet she chose to make me breakfast.
“If she asked you not to tell me, why did you?” I speak to Sam, but my entire attention is on my wife.
“I find it unfair to take the credit for her effort. Especially since she woke up early despite being the opposite of a morning person. Which is why I believe you should thank her properly.”
“That will only give her ideas.” I reluctantly release her and rise to my full height. “She can’t afford ideas.”
“You’re underestimating her strength.”
“I’m willing to gamble on underestimating instead of overestimating her. We did it before and she ended up in the fucking hospital.”
“It’s different now. Both of you are.”
“Still no.”
Sam sighs. “She’s a good kid, Eli. She cares and she has no qualms about showing it. I know you think she’s only sensitive, but I believe you’re overlooking her hidden strength and stunning self-awareness. She might not break if you tell her the truth.”
“No,” I let out in a clipped tone.
“She’ll hate you if she finds out in a different manner. Time is not in your favor.”
“She already hates me, so I don’t see the problem with that.”
“How come you’re smart in everything but excruciatingly obtuse when it comes to her?”
“I’m not obtuse, I’m realistic. She’ll never know and that’s final.”
I take one last glance at my wife’s form that rivals Sleeping Beauty’s.
Sam is right. Time is not in my favor.
Every day is a tick drawing Ava closer to her next episode that, according to Dr. Blaine, will be worse than the last.
The last being that she’ll forget everything.
But even if she erases me again, there’s no escaping me.
I’ll claim her again.
And again.
I’ll carve my name beneath her skin so deeply, she’ll find me in her dreams.
And her nightmares.
26
AVA
“You seem different.”
I look up from my phone after checking it for maybe the millionth time. And no, I’m totally not obsessing or anything obnoxiously similar.
My eyes meet Mama’s and she smiles softly as she passes me the popcorn bowl. Salted caramel flavor—my favorite.
We’ve always had girls’ night—just me, her, and Ari. Oftentimes, Nan will join when she’s not busy touring the world with Grandpapa in their various humanitarian endeavors.
During these nights, we watch the cheesiest chick flicks or my comfort film, Bridget Jones’s Diary, while we gossip about everything and nothing.
This often happens when Papa is caught up in late meetings or events for the company. Such as he is tonight. Otherwise, he wouldn’t tolerate being separated from his ‘girls,’ as he likes to call us.
On this occasion, we put on a Japanese drama per Ari’s request. And by request, I mean she forced her opinion as always, and now we have to read subtitles because she refuses to watch it dubbed in English.
“Or you can, like, learn the language. It’s a disgrace that most Brits only speak their mother tongue when there are so many beautiful languages out there,” she said when I tried to persuade her to change the show.
“I speak Latin and French, thank you very much,” I informed her.
“One is useless and the other is practically useless as well. I, on the other hand, speak Spanish, Japanese, Mandarin, and am currently learning Arabic. Talk to the hand, peasant.” She waved said hand in my face.
Mum sat between us before I could kick her and now we’re stuck with this Japanese thriller drama that’s pretty interesting, actually.
But Ari will never know that, or I won’t hear the end of it. She loves gloating and lacks any sportsmanship concerning anything.
She tries to steal my bowl of popcorn, although there’s another one on the coffee table. I manage to shove her away but not before she snatches a handful and the rest spills all over Mama and the leather sofa.
Eli would look at me with a snobbish expression if I so much as left a crumb on his precious furniture. Now, however, the three of us just laugh as Ari and I proceed to fight over the bucket of sticky candy floss.