Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
King shakes his head and lifts my chin so my eyes meet his. “No, Pup, your place isn’t behind me. It is, and has always been, beside me.”
His words are a much-needed balm on my soul, and I can’t help the feeling of both happiness and sadness that takes over. I don’t know whether to kiss him or cry. It’s like knocking over several colors of paint that pool together and end up in a brown mess. I can’t discern one emotion from the other.
And I’m the fucking mess.
“Come with me.” King takes my hand and leads me to the porch. For a while, we sit in silence with King rubbing my belly in a lazy circle.
“I love you,” I tell him, placing my hand over his, feeling the words deep in my chest as they leave my lips. There is so much more in my words. So much I’m not saying, but I hope he feels the things I can’t seem to be able to say.
“I love you.” The sincerity in his eyes tells me he feels it.
I blink back my tears.
“Pup, you can talk to me. You know that. I know I ask this a lot, but are you okay? Because if you’re not, it’s fine and we can work through it. Together.”
Are you okay? It’s a question I’ve come to both loathe and love. A constant reminder that there is something wrong yet a reinforcement of how much he cares to keep asking.
There’s so much I want to tell him. So much I want to try to explain, but I can’t. I wouldn’t even know where to start. But I’m done telling him that I’m fine or just tired. I can’t lie to him anymore. It hurts too much, and he deserves more than lies, even if I’m not ready to explain the truth. I shake my head. “No, I’m not fine.”
He raises his eyebrows, clearly, he was expecting one of those two aforementioned answers. “You can tell me anything. Talk to me about anything. I can take care of the shit with Trish and the shit with Nine’s truck, but it’s killing me that you won’t even tell me what the problem is or that you say you’re just tired when I know there’s more.”
How do I even begin to explain that in an attempt to not sink into the abyss growing in my brain I’ve been isolating myself. From my kids. From King. From life. Not physically, but emotionally. I’ve trapped myself in a panic room of my own making, terrified that if I open the door, my worst nightmares will be waiting for me on the other side. That over these past few months, I’ve frayed the chord that connects me with the ones I love. It’s kept the worry at bay, but it’s caused a different kind of pain that hasn’t allowed me any rest or feel any true happiness.
“I think I need help. Actually, I know I do. Professional help,” I admit, looking down at my hands. I’m surprised at the feeling of relief that comes with some of the weight being lifted from my body. It’s a real physical feeling. Immediately, my shoulders straighten. The tightness in my chest is still there, but not nearly as constricting. I take a deep breath. My first in what seems like forever.
“Done,” he says, pausing while waiting patiently for me to continue even though I know it’s killing him because King doesn’t do patience.
I sniffle and almost laugh at the absurdity of not being able to blurt out my problems to the man I love and person I trust most in this world. “I want to tell you more, and I will. I promise I’ll tell you everything.” I look up at the changing sky. “But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to take this one storm at a time.”
Chapter 7
Ray
“How are they doing in there?” King asks as I waddle from the hallway. He looks a lot less worried than before, and I’m relieved I could ease some of the tension with my confession and flatten the lines that have been an almost permanent fixture on his forehead.
“Nap time is in full swing. Preppy’s reading NG a bedtime story. Or should I say a nap time story.” I smile but it quickly turns to a cringe as another pain causes me to stop and hold onto the wall for support. This time, I’m panicking because again, it’s stronger than the last one.
How long ago was the last one? An hour? Twenty minutes? I can’t remember. Shit, I should be writing this down.
“Stay put in there,” I whisper to the baby as the pain eases until it vanishes as if it was never here at all. “Please.”
I didn’t even notice King moved until he’s standing right beside me, guiding me to the recliner. “You should be in a hospital,” King mutters.