Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Sorry was such an empty and ambiguous thing to say, so I avoided saying it at all costs. But I truly felt sorry for her. “I’m sorry.” I repeated the words I’d already said, but I wished there were something else I could have said instead.
She grabbed her fork and cut off a small piece of her lasagna, but she let it sit on her plate instead of taking a bite. Her eyes were down for a few more seconds before she had the strength to look at me once more.
“Do you hate him?”
“Hate him?” she whispered. “No, I could never hate him.”
To leave behind his only child was a cowardly thing to do—in my opinion. Even if she was an adult who lived on her own, every child needed their parent. Different stages of life presented different needs. You needed a parent to hold you when you were scared at night, and then one day, you needed their friendship and advice.
“How old were you?”
“Nineteen.”
“And how old are you now?” It was hard to tell. She didn’t look as young as a twenty-one-year-old, but she didn’t look thirty either.
“Twenty-eight. So it’s been about ten years.”
“Time doesn’t make things easier. It just puts distance between the past and the present.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly on my face, looking at me with a greater depth. “Who did you lose?”
“My brother.”
She said the phrase that I despised, but she said it with such sincerity that I didn’t mind. “I’m sorry.”
“He was my twin.”
She gave a slow nod, like she understood how much more painful that made it. “I can’t imagine two of you.”
“One of me is enough.”
“How did he die?”
I hesitated, unsure exactly how he’d met his end, but the tidbits I did know were torture. “Someone wanted him dead. He had a habit of pissing off people everywhere he went.”
She didn’t smirk. Her eyes remained serious. “Did you kill them?”
“I still haven’t figured out who it is. But I will…eventually.”
She returned her gaze to her plate.
I said horrible things, but she didn’t flinch at the words. She seemed accustomed to this life. Death and torture didn’t faze her like they did most women. I didn’t talk about work with my women because it always made them uncomfortable. It was a breath of fresh air telling her the truth without seeing the cringe. “How did your father do it?”
She stared at her plate a moment later. “Left the car on in the garage.”
“No chance it was an accident?”
“He left a note.”
I gave a slight nod in somber understanding.
“Said he was sorry…and he loved me.”
But that wasn’t enough. The love of a parent for their child should always be enough. “I wouldn’t show so much grace.”
Her eyes found mine again. “Why?”
“Because he had something to live for.” A beautiful daughter, who was as smart as she was pretty.
“My father was in a lot of pain when he lost my mother.”
“I’m sure he was. But that’s not good enough.”
“I thought you weren’t the judgmental type?”
“I’m not—”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing. My parents had been together since high school. Blissfully happy at every age. Grew old together with grace. They tried to have a family for a long time, but it didn’t happen…until I finally came along. I was their miracle baby, and they treasured me like a miracle. I won’t replace the love in my heart with anger and resentment. I won’t forfeit all my good memories because of a tragic decision he made. Don’t judge people for feeling such inescapable misery just because you’ve never felt it yourself. Just be grateful that you don’t understand. And if you’re lucky enough, you never will.”
I got lost in those words, bumps forming on my arms from the wisdom of her words and the depth of her heart. Unlike me, she didn’t let the bad tarnish her soul. She continued to shine on, pure and vibrant like the sun that appeared from behind the buildings every morning. “You’re right. I apologize.” It was the first time I’d said that in a decade—and she had no idea. She had no idea the power she already had over me. “I feel protective of you. And knowing you were abandoned at such a tender age provoked the worst in me.”
“Protective of me?” she whispered. “You barely know me.”
“And you barely know me, so you don’t know that I never take a woman out to dinner—but I’ve taken you twice.”
Her eyes flicked away for just a second in reaction before she looked at me again. Her confidence faltered, and a moment of vulnerability shone through. My words struck a chord…a couple of chords. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why have you taken me out to dinner twice?”
I cocked my head slightly. “I want to fuck you.”
She didn’t flinch at the audacity of my words.
“And I care for you.”