Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
When he takes off on foot, I shout, “Caleb, wait!”
I try to take off after him, to continue calming him before he hurts someone or himself, but before I can, Warren bands his arm around my midsection and yanks me back.
“Let me go!” I scream while clawing my nails into his arms.
I fight him with everything I have, but by the time my father’s demands for me to be released reach Warren’s ears, it is too late.
Caleb is nowhere to be found, and neither is my car.
CHAPTER 47
JESS
“Thank you, Daddy.” I unlatch my belt before leaning across to kiss my father on the cheek. He was quiet for most of our drive. It is understandable when you realize he’s suffering bruised ribs and a swollen pharynx.
The doctor didn’t give him the all-clear to drive, but he is as stubborn as a mule. He was bringing me home no matter what anyone said, and his determination has nothing to do with a concern I might ‘borrow’ his Jaguar again.
He’s worried about me, and in all honesty, so am I.
I want to shelter Caleb from more pain, but after today, I’m not sure I am the best person to do that. My family is a pain in my backside, but I can’t live without them. If it weren’t for my father, my life wouldn’t be what it is, and I wouldn’t be who I am.
But I can’t imagine my life without Caleb either.
It is messy, and my heart is by far the messiest.
I grip the doorhandle tighter when my dad calls my name. “Jessmina.”
After softening the pain etched on my face, I twist to face him.
He knows I don’t need to hear his words to understand his worry, but he gives them to me anyway. “That boy has been through a lot, and although it gives him a reason to respond the way he does, it doesn’t excuse all his behaviors. Accountability for your actions is one of the first steps every man must take to fully recover.” His eyes stray to my apartment building. “But he isn’t ready for that stage yet, and it is not your place to force him there.”
“I’m not forcing him…” I choke on my reply when he returns his eyes to me. They’re sympathetic, but they also rat me out as a liar. “I just want him to let me in.”
“Why?”
The simplicity of his question shouldn’t stump me for as long as it does. “Because…” I take another second to ponder. “Because I can’t help him if he isn’t honest with me.”
I want to sock him in the stomach when he says again, “Why?”
“Because honesty is the foundation of every relationship—”
My stomach gurgles when he interrupts, “A relationship you were once adamant you didn’t want and one you’re not sure you can uphold while also being true to yourself.” He gathers my hand and holds it in his. “If a ship is sinking, you can’t stop it from falling to the bottom of the ocean. You can only remove the survivors, collect the rubble, then start again. It may not be as big or as impressive as the first boat, but it will function almost the same if it is built by the person who designed the first boat.” When he loses me with his metaphors, he smiles gently before muttering, “Caleb needs to heal himself. You can’t do it for him.”
“But—”
“There are no buts, Jessmina, only a promise that things will improve the moment you learn that Caleb will never reach the end of his journey if you don’t allow him the chance to travel the roads he needs to take.” He softly chuckles about my dropped lower lip before murmuring, “You are just like your mother. She took us down the long road as well.”
I wish he were lying. The first three years of my life, my parents were separated because my father thought my life would be better without him in it.
He was wrong, and I wish he was now as well, but I’m not sure he is.
Can I help Caleb heal when I remind him so much of the pain he has faced?
I wordlessly demand my father to get out of my head when he murmurs, “The choice is not his to make, Jessmina. He simply needs to learn the blame for his demons belong on one man’s shoulders.”
“His grandfather’s,” we murmur in sync.
I take a few minutes to let his words sink in before popping open my door and peeling out of the passenger seat.
“I love you, Daddy.” He maintains eye contact longer than he usually feels comfortable with before he breaks the connection. Once I’m in the safety of my building, he reverses out of the alleyway then commences his two-hour trip home.
It takes everything I have to remember the wisdom he shared when my entrance into Octavia’s apartment occurs with me stepping over moving boxes and numerous old editions of Seattle Socialites.