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)
“It’s not that,” I say as I pour the whiskey into the short glass. If Emma wasn’t here, I wouldn’t even bother with it. I’d be drinking straight from the bottle.
“What is it?” she asks me. Her voice is so small, it’s full of fear.
“I don’t know what to do.” I give her that much, but I can’t tell her exactly what I’m talking about. I can’t give that to her. I’m afraid that the more I give her, the more she'll see me and the reality of my life. The more she’ll realize that she shouldn’t be with me.
“You’re smart, Sweetheart,” I say and take a sip of my whiskey before looking at her. She’s gripping the granite countertop tightly, looking at me like she’s barely holding on for dear life. “Tell me what to do.”
“You’re smart, too,” she says softly. She takes a small step closer to me, her hands rubbing soothing circles on my back. I know she means it to be comforting, but all I want to do is push her away right now. I don’t want to be comforted. I realize I don’t even want a distraction as I take another sip of the burning whiskey. I slam the glass down on the counter and almost shove her back, but I don’t. I can’t take this shit anymore.
But I can’t risk losing her and having no one. Even though that’s what I deserve.
“I can’t figure out what to do,” I tell Emma. “There’s no way to win.”
“Sometimes it’s not up to you.” Emma stares straight at me as she says the words.
I shake my head and insist, “You can always do something. There’s always a choice. Even if you’re making the wrong choice, it’s up to you.”
“You’re wrong,” she says and stops rubbing the soothing circles on my back. She shakes her head, saying, “Sometimes you don’t get a say. Sometimes it’s just the way life is.”
In that moment I love her for her honesty, but I hate that she said it. I wish she’d just lied to me.
I close my eyes and reach for the whiskey, but her hand grips my wrist.
“Don’t do this, Derek,” she says with a strong voice. “You know she doesn’t want to see you like this. This isn’t the way to handle it.”
“I don’t want to see her like that!” I yell. My voice is harsh, and I instantly regret it. The look on Emma’s face is like I slapped her. The room is quiet for a long time. I swirl the whiskey around in the glass and then bring it to my lips. I just want to get lost in the alcohol. “Tell me what to do then, Emma,” I say in a low voice.
“First, you need to kiss me,” she says in a shaky voice. “You need to know that no matter what happens, I’m still gonna be here.” She takes the glass from my hand and dumps the whiskey down the sink, placing the glass on the countertop before looking back up at me. She pushes herself between the counter and my chest, her body touching mine.
I lower my head, putting my lips to hers as she cups my jaw. It’s not a kiss like any other kiss we’ve had, not at first. But she doesn’t let me go until I soften my lips. Until they mold to hers. My arms wrap around her small body. I hold onto her tightly as she kisses me back fiercely, refusing to let me go until I feel like I’m falling to pieces around her.
She finally pulls away from me, visibly swallowing, her eyes on my lips. She lays her head on my chest. “Some days are going to be hard.” She takes a deep breath. “Some days you’re not gonna know what to do. Some days you won’t even remember.”
I want to pull away from her at the last line, realizing what she’s talking about. But she holds me tighter, and she keeps going without waiting for me to even acknowledge how fucked up that sounds. I don’t wanna talk about what it’s going to be like when Ma’s gone.
“And when you realize you've forgotten, when you have a good moment and you realize that you weren’t thinking about her, you might even hate yourself.”
I suck in a breath; I hate thinking about this. I hate feeling like this.
“But she wants you to be happy, Derek.” She looks up at me, her hazel eyes pleading with me. The green swirls and blue specks shine brightly over the glassy tears in her hazel eyes. “She wants you to have a life after she’s gone.”
I shake my head. “I’m not ready for that,” I barely whisper, my voice breaking. “I promised her.” I wipe the bastard tears from my eyes, sniffling and trying to pull away from her, but she doesn’t let me. I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t want to be the weak man I am right now. “I promised her when I was a kid that I’d make sure she’d be all right.” I take an unsteady breath, calming myself slightly at the memory. Pops had just left. I knew Ma wasn’t healthy, and the late nights at the diner were only draining the life from her faster. “I told her that she’d beat this. I promised her that she’d live to see a hundred.”