Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
This happened the other day, too. Eating’s been taking a lot out of her. I don’t know if the chemo is making her nauseated, if she’s just not sleeping enough, or if something else is going on.
Before I can move to the fridge, Emma’s already there. She grabs the milk quickly with a serious look on her face.
Setting the jug on the counter, she opens up one cabinet door and then the next and the next.
“Right here, Sweetheart.” I open up the cabinet door closest to my right and grab a large plastic cup, handing it over to Emma.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
She pours a cup of milk without looking at me.
“Ma, you sure you don’t want to go to your room?” I ask, my hand on her shoulder. “You could lie down. Or maybe the booth in the dining room nook?” I added a bench in there up against the wall, and near the window. She likes sitting in there to read and get some sun. She shouldn’t be sitting up here on the stool with how unsteady she is. I can just picture her falling off.
She puts her small hand on mine, and it’s cold. She pats my hand a few times and nods her head. “I think I should go back to bed. ”She swallows thickly, and the happiness that was in her eyes vanishes. “I just thought I heard a new voice in this empty house.”
“I can take you there if you want,” Emma says softly. “You have to show me where though.” Ma returns Emma’s hesitant smile. “I can get there myself. I’ll be alright. You just stay here and keep an eye on my boy.” Ma turns to me and gives me a wink. “He needs someone out here keeping him in line.”
CHAPTER 11
Emma
It’s crazy how fast things change.
Two weeks ago, I was caught up in studying for school and thinking about my internship, planning for my future. I had checklists and everything mapped out. All I had to do was stay on the straight and narrow.
Now all I can think about is Derek. I’m second-guessing everything. I want to somehow fit him into all my plans, but he doesn’t belong there.
It’s just like it was back in high school. I’m willing to move everything around for him. The two of us fit together so well. We’re meant to be; I can feel it. But the lives we lead don’t blend.
As the days count down until I go back to school, it’s getting harder and harder to ignore. It’s nearly impossible to pretend everything is just fine and fall into his bed without any worries. The tick-tock, tick-tock of the proverbial clock never shuts the fuck up anymore. I shake my head as I grab my textbooks and head downstairs to the kitchen, pushing the awful truth away. Why can’t life just be easy? Why are there these choices that make it so you can’t have everything? Even as I question it, I know I’m being ridiculous.
After the other night, there’s no way I can walk away from Derek again. But I don’t see how we’re going to make this work. Especially when we aren’t even talking about it. He’s not going to change, and I can’t be with him and turn a blind eye forever.
I set my books on the kitchen table, grab myself a glass of orange juice, and sit down, ready to study. I just need to focus. A sigh leaves me in a long exhale as I push the hair out of my face.
As I open my book and start reading, my thoughts drift back to Derek. I can’t stop thinking about all of the things he’s going through, and how hard his life is compared to mine. He’s only told me little bits and pieces. He never wants to talk about it. I get it. I do. But he needs someone. He has no one, and that’s by choice. I don’t understand how he doesn’t see that. He has me, at least. I can see through his bullshit. But he’s never going to be okay if he keeps it all bottled up.
My chest feels so tight and painful as I think about everything he’s dealing with on his own. Watching his mom slowly being taken away by cancer. Tears prick my eyes, and I take in a heavy breath. I check my phone, merely looking for a distraction, even though I know I don’t have any new messages.
It’s been two days since I’ve seen him, but we’ve been texting back and forth. I miss him, which is a dangerous thing.
I stretch my arms and shake out all this tension before I get back to the task at hand and start reading. Focus, Emma.
I have to blink my eyes several times as the black words fade into the white pages. I read the words, but I can’t remember a single fucking sentence. As I read the same paragraph over for the third time, I hear a knock on the door.