Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Alone, the new story of my life.
“I don’t like this story,” I sob aloud to the purring car.
Charlotte rumbles softly, as if trying to comfort me as we idle on the side of the street, but it doesn’t help. If there’s one thing I know by now, it’s that there’s only one cure for a broken heart—time.
Or action, Charlotte says in the breathy voice I use to make her “talk” when Chase and I are playing “What Would Charlotte Say?” on the way to school. Fighting for Ben was a lost cause, but Aaron’s different, girl. You know he is. I mean, he’s in love, too! He said the words. More than once.
“But he’s l-leaving,” I sob with a sniff, not caring that I’m talking to my car. Right now, I have bigger problems than a little crazy. I’m losing the one guy who’s ever made me feel safe and treasured for exactly who I am, no modifications required. “And he was smiling about it.”
Oh, come on, Starshine. You’re smarter than that. You know what he’s up to. You know because you would do the same thing if your positions were reversed. He’s doing what he always does—being the white knight who sacrifices himself to save the day.
But maybe this time, he doesn’t have to.
Maybe it’s the princess’s turn to get on her horse and ride to the rescue.
I sniff again, my tears slowing. “Good point, Charlotte.”
Charlotte doesn’t respond, but that’s okay. Her work here is done. I know what I need to do. Shifting into gear, I pull out into the softly drifting snow and head where I always head in times of trial.
As I steer east, I call Matty on speakerphone. When he answers, I say, “Pikachu Promise,” and briefly explain the current shitstorm. “So, I’m activating emergency twin protocols. I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes.”
“Good,” he says. “I’ll start coffee. Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.”
“I’ll help,” Nora calls out in the background. “No way are we letting Aaron run away from true love. True love is not something we run away from in our family.”
“Or in ours,” Matty says. “See you soon, sis.”
I end the call and roll my shoulders back, letting Charlotte, my noble steed, bear me hence.
Chapter 28
Aaron
Inside the rental, I sag onto the couch, feeling like a bag of stinking, aching, miserable human garbage. The scent of the breakfast Melissa made this morning, when we were still happy and hopeful and pinching each other’s asses in between coffee refills, hangs in the air, taunting me with memories of how stupid I was.
Stupid enough to think Mel and I could make love work.
Stupid enough to think I could be part of her family.
Stupid enough to think Chase could be my little guy, too, and maybe we’d get lucky enough to have more incredible kiddos just like him. But this time, they’d be ours, just ours, and no one could take them away.
“Fucking stupid,” I mutter as tears slip down my cheeks.
Good. Crying is good. This is why I decided to stay here instead of going to Gram’s. Here, in the ghost house, no one will see me cry like a big selfish baby.
Not even the ghost. She’s gone now. The house is so quiet, it’s hard to believe it ever held anything but living, breathing people. But that little girl was real and so was the misery she suffered before she was taken out by her own family.
I could have it so much worse. So could Mel. Ben and Radcliffe are being idiots, but only because they care about Chase and want to keep him safe. As soon as I’m out of the picture, Ben and Melissa will make up, Radcliffe will go back to being a tolerable level of intrusive, and Mel won’t have to be sad or stressed out anymore.
I’m the problem, but I’m also the problem solver.
“Goddamned American hero,” I say, swiping at my cheeks.
I can’t remember the last time I cried this much. I was raised by a man who never cried. My father preferred to scream and rage and lash out at other people when he was sad. He never sat with his fear or grief. He never took a look in the mirror and wondered what he could do to make his life—or the world—a better place.
When I was a kid, I swore to myself, I’d never be anything like him, but despite my best efforts, I was a dick there for a while. In high school, I worked so hard to put the painful vulnerability of my childhood behind me, that sometimes I forgot to be soft. I teased my teammates about their mistakes and bullied the girl I liked in some misguided, adolescent effort to ensure I remained above it all.
Above the risk of failure.