Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
But I didn’t.
Chapter 5
Scarlett
I sat at the kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee in front of me, the steam wafting from the dark surface and hitting me in the face. The days had started to get longer now that we were closer to spring, but the cold was still rampant, the draft felt every time I came too close to the window when I passed.
My old apartment was exactly as I remembered it. To my good fortune, no one had rented it in the brief time I’d lived with Axel. His men took all my clothing and belongings and delivered them, along with me, to this place.
Now I sat there alone, lower than I’d ever been in my life.
There were times when I wanted to go back to Axel because I missed him so much, but then the past would loom over us like a bad dream. I would think of the way he’d treated Cassandra so delicately…the way he treated me. Or I would think about the horrible accusation he’d made, that my own flesh and blood would betray me like my worst enemy. Either way, our relationship was doomed to die. We were like a newly potted plant. It looked nice for a few days, but then the dead soil or the lack of sunshine killed it. The plant was replaced, only to have the same outcome.
I continued to stare at my coffee but never took a sip. Sometimes the steam distracted me, blanketed my face with moist heat that made my cheeks feel wet…without any tears.
I’d left my ring on his nightstand before I moved out. My finger felt naked now. The weightlessness was freeing, but not in the good kind of way, more in the falling off a building toward the pavement kind of way.
My heart ached with a hole that would never heal. The memory of his smirk and his playful eyes would haunt me forever. He made me feel so warm, even in the darkest hour. When I had been about to lose my life, he was there to save me. He saved my father too, and if his accusation about him were true, then that would have been a noble act.
Three days had passed, and I still didn’t know what to think.
Axel hadn’t texted or called.
And I knew he wouldn’t.
I sat on the couch in the parlor, my eyes glued to the dancing flames in the hearth. Gas fireplaces were more convenient and pollutant-free, but there was something special about a real fire, the way the flames made the wood crackle and pop. It was mesmerizing, and like the steam from my coffee, it distracted me…for a brief moment.
“Sweetheart.” My father rounded the corner, entering the room with his welcoming posture, his handsome smile, but it took only two seconds for his mood to dim and mirror mine. “Everything alright?” He came to the couch and stood over me for a moment, his eyes jumping back and forth to take in my ghost-white face.
“Yes, everything’s fine.” My voice didn’t sound like my own, sounded like it belonged to a stranger.
My father slowly lowered himself to the couch across from me, his concerned eyes locked on me with such anguish. His spine didn’t touch the back of the couch, prepared to launch toward me if I collapsed on the floor. He continued to stare. “Sweetheart, you look…” He hesitated, replacing whatever he was about to say with something more polite. “You look unwell.”
I showered every day because I couldn’t stand oily hair, but I put no effort into my appearance. Instead of giving myself a blowout for shiny and silky hair, I let it air-dry. As a result, I had a disheveled appearance. I didn’t bother with makeup, so my face was washed out, my features all blending together in an unremarkable look. “I came by because I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“I’m listening,” he said quickly, anxious to hear the source of my misery.
“I want to ask you something…” My eyes dropped down to the table between us, the pain in my chest so unbearable it was hard to make eye contact. I knew Axel’s character, and he wasn’t the kind of man to lie. He was the kindest, most generous man I’d ever met. Despite the end of our marriage, I was lucky I’d ever gotten to be with him. But my father was also a wonderful man, and I couldn’t see him doing the heinous things Axel accused him of. It was hard to believe either of them would ever hurt me, but someone had.
“Alright,” my father said, eager for me to continue.
My eyes remained on the table, wanting to believe in my heart that my father was innocent of Axel’s allegations, that he wouldn’t threaten an innocent person, that he wouldn’t shoot someone in the arm just to make a point. I needed to hear him deny all of this, to tell me it was ridiculous even to entertain it for a couple seconds.