Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
We pull up outside my house, and I look at the place that has been my family home since before I can remember. The familiarity of walking up the front path and putting my key in the lock is like a balm. Celine bounds behind me on her bubble trainers. In the hallway, she looks around, her eyes trailing the family pictures with a new interest. "You were such a cute kid." She points at a photo of Gab and me when I was around nine and Gab was around four. With our summer tans and white-blond hair, we look like a pair of cherubs.
"Cute adult, too." I grin and wink, and Celine smiles before her eyes drift to a point over my shoulder, and her face falls a little.
"Travis?"
I turn at my Mom's voice, detecting a strangeness to the way she said my name. "Mom, you know Celine."
"Of course. Gabriella's upstairs." She glances back into the den. "Travis, there is someone here to see you."
If it was someone Mom knew, she wouldn't say it that way. She'd say Blake is here. So it must be someone she doesn't know, and I have no idea who that might be.
Celine's still standing next to me, and it's as if she can sense something's off, too.
"Who, Mom?"
"Lina from Germany?"
She says it like a question, and my heart seems to thud in one big, weird pulse and drop to the floor. All the darkness I felt when I got on the plane from Berlin and managed to push into the recesses of my mind barrels forward.
Celine's hand rests on my arm, and I turn to her like she's my safety in a warzone. "Are you okay?" she asks.
My head moves from side to side of its own volition, and Celine, picking up on my sudden change in mood, still makes no move to climb the stairs. Instead, she lets her fingers slide into mine.
Mom's gaze drops to where we're now joined, and her lips part like she wants to say something, but we're all trapped in a vortex of the silence that swirls around when things remain unsaid.
"I'll make coffee," Mom says eventually. "And I have blueberry muffins. Would you like one, Celine?"
"Sure."
My feet won't propel me forward even though I know I need to follow Mom and face the woman I flew over an ocean to escape.
"I'll come with you," Celine whispers. Never letting go of my hand. It's her presence that propels me forward.
In the den, Lina is relaxing on my family couch like it's the most normal thing in the world. Her arms are draped across the back, her legs are crossed, and her pointed shoe bounces up and down as she swings her leg. She always was an impatient person, so finding that I was not home when she arrived must have pissed her off. Her eyes brighten when she sees me, but her expression shifts into something darker when she sees Celine and follows my arm down until she notices our hands are linked.
"What are you doing here?" She doesn't deserve any pleasantries. She doesn't deserve to feel comfortable on my home ground when she made my life so difficult on hers.
"I'm here to see you, Travis."
Celine shifts closer to me until her shoulder is pressed against my upper arm. She squeezes my hand just enough to let me feel her reassurance. "Why?"
"This isn't the greeting I thought I'd receive after flying so far to see you."
"You shouldn't have bothered." I turn to where Mom's stirring the coffee so vigorously it sounds as though she will wear a hole in the mug.
Lina rests her hand on her belly and smiles in a way that doesn't meet her eyes. Smile is too nice a word for it. Smirk more accurately reflects the situation. I stare at her as my brain glitches. Why the fuck is she in my house? How the fuck did she find me?
"I have good news," she gushes, her eyes lifting from Celine's hand in mine to my face. "I'm pregnant."
The words penetrate my skull but don't truly register for a few seconds. Celine flinches like she's been slapped but still doesn't let go of my hand. It's as though she wants to tell them that she's with me no matter what. Except she can't be with me through this.
"Pregnant?" The word comes out through a throat that sounds strangulated. I stare at Lina with an expression that can only be described as horrified.
"Yes." Her hand caresses her belly again. "I couldn't believe it either, but the pregnancy tests, it's true."
I want to scream at her that I always wore condoms, but that wouldn't matter, would it? Condoms can fail. It says on the box that they’re only ninety-eight percent effective.
"It's not mine." I bark. It can't be mine. I won't believe it.