Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 234281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1171(@200wpm)___ 937(@250wpm)___ 781(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 234281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1171(@200wpm)___ 937(@250wpm)___ 781(@300wpm)
He heard her footsteps but didn't bother to turn. He felt her stand beside him, and the urge to strangle her got so fucking bad he had to shove his hands into his pockets.
"I know what I did was wrong..."
Was she fucking kidding? Wrong was if temptation got the better of you and you flirted black with someone who wanted you. Wrong was if you were so damn stressed at work you ended up lashing out at your partner. Wrong was forgivable.
But what she did—-
"Can't we be adults—-"
FUCK.
Rage had him spinning around so fast, it had her stumbling back and losing her balance. She cried his name out as she fell, but the sound only made his skin crawl.
"Matthijs!"
He stared at her crumpled form on the ground, but the sight only fanned the flames of his rage and turned it into hatred. "You goddamn knew." He had never shouted at her. Not in all the years they had known each other. But now, he wished he could fucking do more, wished his words could make her bleed. "You goddamn knew—-"
She started to cry, but when it used to be that the first sight of tears would have him caving in to whatever she wanted, it was no longer the same. Now that he knew, now that he was no longer blind, her tears no longer seemed real or pure. This time, her tears only made him want to fucking kill her.
Kill her like she had killed him.
"Goddamn you!"
"Matthijs—-"
"You goddamn knew what could happen, and you still let me fuck you!"
She started crawling towards him. "Please—-" She tried to reach for him again, but he slapped her hands away. "Don't you fucking touch me—-"
He saw her whiten at his words, but he no longer gave a damn. "You make me sick," he hissed. "The sight of you makes me fucking sick. Just knowing we're breathing the same fucking air—-"
"Please, M-Matthijs—-"
"Don't ever show your face to me again. That's the only warning you'll ever get, and if you're stupid enough to think I don't mean it..." His jaw clenched. "Then it would be my turn to ruin your life."
She had caused him so much fucking pain. Had single-handedly and permanently turned his life into a living hell. She had, in one fell swoop, ruined his every chance for happiness.
And yet...
He could not stop himself from remembering the times that it had been good between them.
Because they had been that.
Good.
Damn good, actually.
He had been her date to the prom. The big brother she had run to when she needed a shoulder to cry on. He had been her first love, and she was probably going to be his last.
This girl he had once imagined spending the rest of his life with.
This girl whose firsts were all with him.
This girl who, at the mere age of thirteen, had already declared he was going to lose his heart to her one day.
'Go ahead, laugh,' she had grumbled. 'But mark my words, Matthijs de Graaf. There will be a time when I'll be the one laughing. Because one day, you'll fall in love with me."
And he had.
"You'll love me so much that you'll want to marry me."
And he had.
"And when that day comes, you'll even do that stupid thing you hate." And at his frown, she had said laughingly,
"I asked you once, remember? What you're willing to do for a girl, and you said—-"
The truth had hit him then, and he had grinned as he finished her sentence for her. 'I won't give her flowers because it's out of date, and it would make me feel like a troll trying to pass itself off as a knight.'
'Exactly,' she had said cheerfully.
'Over my dead body,' he had said just as cheerfully.
'Don't you underestimate me. I have my ways, and you mark my words. It will happen.'
And so he had.
His eyes closed, and as his knees slowly fell to the ground, so did his tears. It washed away what little there was of his hatred that remained, washed everything out until all that was left was emptiness.
I'm sorry I listened to you too late. I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry.
Her
You & Me Against The World by Marissa Sanchez
DIANA COULD NOT STOP crying.
She hated herself for it. For being so damn weak. For doing exactly what the professor had no doubt expected her to do.
I'm sorry, Professor. I'm so sorry.
He had asked to see her, and when he had come, one look at her appeared to have been enough, and he had said hoarsely, I'll tell you everything. And then after that, it's all up to you.
At that time, one look had been enough for her as well. One look at his ashen face, and she had known she had somehow hurt him. She had known, but she hadn't been able to do a thing. Had been such a mess that all she could do was listen in numb silence as the truth came pouring out.