Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“That’s the problem,” Lark interrupts me. “That’s always been the problem, Cassidy. You don’t trust me. You never have. And I doubt it’s just me.” He takes a step closer, the air between us heating. Or maybe that’s just me, my whole body flushing at his proximity. “When was the last time you really let anybody in, huh? When was the last time you had a real conversation with someone you were with?”
“I…” My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. It’s just because I’m mad right now, I tell myself. That’s the only reason I can’t think of anybody.
But the only face coming to mind right now is Norman’s. And he was the last person on this planet I could ever have an honest conversation with, let alone trust.
“This isn’t about me,” I reply, hardening my expression. Tightening my fists where they’re wrapped around my own elbows.
“Look, should I have been more upfront with you about Sheryl? Yes, I see that now.” He uncrosses his arms. Spreads them at his sides, like an act of surrender. Like he’s opening himself up to let me strike him if I want. “I didn’t tell you more details because frankly, I was afraid it would scare you away. We’d only just started seeing each other, but I…” His voice hitches. Lowers. “I already knew I really liked you, Cassidy. I was developing feelings for you, and… it was selfish, but I didn’t want to say anything that would jeopardize that.”
“So you lied.” I tighten my jaw.
He nods slowly, gaze fixed on mine. “So I lied, yes. But…” He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a frustrated groan. “The thing with Sheryl. Our marriage. It’s been over for so long, that to me, I just thought… does it really matter what some legal piece of paper says? She and I both know where things stand.”
“Are you sure about that?” I can’t help but think about her expression whenever she talks about Lark. Not to mention the way she went at him in Marcel’s office the other day. Slapping him, to boot. That’s not the behavior of a woman who’s over things with her ex.
“Yes,” he replies, firmly. “Trust me.”
But I can’t. Not after all of this. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the tears from spilling over, and then I reach out one more time, the tie in my fist. This time, I have to force it into his hand. “I’m sorry, Lark.”
He closes his eyes for a long moment. I can see his jaw working, the muscles of his face tense as he fights with his own emotions. I watch his throat bob with a tight swallow. And then, finally, he nods. “Goodbye, Cassidy,” he says, and there’s a finality to it this time. A hollow ring that kills me, even as I watch him let himself out my front door.
I wait until I hear his car start on the street outside before I shut myself into my bedroom, plant myself face down on the bed, and finally let myself cry.
20
Cassidy
“This is a vicious cycle, Cassidy. You see that, don’t you?” My therapist keeps her voice carefully neutral.
I stare up at her ceiling, blinking hard through the tears. “I guess.”
“You’re doing the same thing with Lark that you did after your breakup with Norman. You’re letting him set all the rules, letting him dictate your boundaries. You owe it to both of you—yes, both you and him,” she clarifies when I look over at her, startled, “to let this go.”
I inhale sharply. It comes out a long, pathetic sniffle. “I know,” I say. My voice comes out quieter now. Still heartbroken.
My therapist smiles kindly. “It will take time,” she tells me. “But the nice thing about time is that it comes whether we want it to or not. This feeling will pass, Cassidy. I promise you that.”
Easy for her to say. She’s not the one who woke up drenched in sweat again this morning—the same way I have every morning this week—with Lark’s name on her lips. During the day, I’ve gotten decent about fending off the emotions. But at night, when my subconscious takes over, they return with a vengeance.
Like last night. In my dream, I was back at Lark’s apartment. Only we weren’t in his bed. He had walked me over to the huge floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around his living room, with a stunning, mesmerizing view out over the city. It looked like we had the whole world spread out beneath our feet.
“You’re the one I want,” Lark whispered against the nape of my neck, his breath so hot I swear I could feel it. He kissed me right there, tongue trailing along the upper vertebrae of my spine. “Trust me, Cassidy.”