Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
My stomach cramps from her words and I whisper to her, “I know.”
I know very well that my inability to fully open up could cost me probably the most important person I’ve ever had in my life.
There was a time my freshman year of college when I was really struggling. Despite having no relationship with my parents for eighteen years, I was floundering that first year away from them as an adult. Although the net of being under their care as a minor was filled with holes, it was a safety net at least. I was overwhelmed with all sorts of doubts and insecurities that first year away from home, and I went to see one of the campus counselors.
It didn’t take long for me to figure out through some soul-baring sessions that I felt entirely unlovable. That there was something so awful about me that I couldn’t even entice my parents to love their child, that I knew I was destined to be alone forever. That was a tremendously formative year for me, because it was where I realized that I was going to make my way through life alone. I knew deep in my heart that no one could ever truly care for someone as unworthy as me, so I wasn’t ever going to put myself in a position for someone to thoroughly reject me the way my parents had.
Of course, that counselor tried his damndest to get me to see my reasoning was flawed. And the smart and practical part of me could understand why I was the way I was. I’d read enough to know that what my parents did to me was devastating to my emotional growth and development. I was reasonable enough to know that I was really, really fucked up and broken.
It never really daunted me. Didn’t sadden me. It was what it was and I adapted. I became strong. I relied on the one person I knew could never let me down, and that was me.
That’s just the way my life was until Lucas Fournier came along. And now my entire foundation has been shaken to the core, and I don’t know who I am anymore.
One thing I do know is that I’ve let him in further than I thought was even possible, and if I lose what we have, I know it would be a devastation that would cut away a part of my soul that he’s had a huge role in healing.
And yet that still doesn’t overcome my fear of being hurt even worse if he were to abandon me at some point. While I know it’s wrong, my psyche tells me to push him away before I can get hurt, and yet I don’t want to lose him at all. I am so fucked up in the head over this, I wonder if perhaps there comes a point where a person is so broken they can’t ever be glued back together again.
The buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the first period, and Jules stares at me just a moment more before she stands up. “I’m going to go get something to eat. Coming?”
I shake my head, feeling slightly morose. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” she says with a soft smile, and makes her way out of the front row. I look out to the ice and see the last of the players skating off, but I can’t see Lucas. I wonder if he looked over this way and saw Jules and me talking. I wonder if he even knows the depths of my confusion over everything.
I suspect he does because he handles me with so much patience and grace.
“That was an intense period, huh?” I hear as Lucas’s dad plops down beside me. I look past his shoulder and see that Marilyn, Simone, and Jules have all left.
The score is zero to zero and the Florida Spartans are scrapping for their lives because a loss will end their play-off run. It’s been a brutal game, with both teams giving more than their all to try to score.
“Sure is,” I say with a glance up at the scoreboard before I look back to him.
It’s clear his boys got his height and brawn in addition to his hair color. For such a big man, Laurence’s French Canadian accent is lilting, although his voice is baritone deep. While we talked today at lunch—I found him to be an easy, laid-back guy—we didn’t say more than a handful of words directly to each other. I learned very quickly that the Fournier family is a noisy, boisterous group that loves to tell stories, joke, and tease each other. They’re also a visibly affectionate family, which is both fascinating and awkward for me to watch.
This afternoon I was practically swooning as Lucas came up behind Simone as she was telling Jules a story about some party at college. He just put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed once while he listened to his sister. She brought one hand up to lay on top of one of his hands, and I marveled at such easy affection between them.