Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
I finish using the restroom and enter the adjoining primary suite to see he’s gone. “Haidyn?” I call out. He doesn’t answer, so I grab his T-shirt from my floor and pull it on.
Exiting my room, I enter the living room to find him standing with his back to me staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing my backyard. My view isn’t nearly as gorgeous as the one he has at his place, but it’s still pretty. I frown, seeing he’s put his jeans on.
Walking past my coffee table, I notice that my cell phone is on it, and I make a mental note to plug it in. I’m sure it’s dead. “What are you doing?” I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing the side of my head into his bare back, inhaling his scent. I try to tell myself that I’m just overreacting, but I know something is coming, and I can’t stop it.
He turns around in my arms, and I look up as he gently brushes his knuckles along my cheek, pushing my hair from my face. I smile up at him, but he doesn’t return it. Mine falls, and a sickening feeling returns to my stomach.
Reaching down, he picks up my left hand and runs his thumb over my wedding ring. That feeling intensifies, making me swallow nervously. “Do you regret it?” I whisper.
His silence makes my stomach drop. He steps into me, cupping my face with both of his warm hands and forces me to look up at him through my watery eyes. “I don’t regret marrying you, Charlotte. What I regret is why you married me.”
I sniff. I’ve fallen in love with this man, and the thought of him deciding he no longer wants me makes it hard to breathe. “What do you mean?”
“You only married me because you felt you had no choice.” He sighs.
I place my hands on his muscular chest and feel his steady heartbeat. “You didn’t marry me because you loved me.” I give a soft laugh to try to lighten the mood.
He doesn’t say anything about that. Instead, his eyes search mine, and I grab his hand and begin to pull him to the bedroom. “Come on.” I try to change the subject. “Lets go to bed. I’m tired.”
SEVENTY-FIVE
HAIDYN
She’s passed out and tucked into my side. I have one arm under her neck while the other sits on my bare chest. I stare up at the ceiling as the sun slowly rises, illuminating her bedroom. Charlotte finally fell asleep about an hour ago.
I should have let her sleep sooner, but I couldn’t stop. I needed her. And like the good girl she is, she allowed me to take whatever I wanted. It’ll never be enough, but all good things must come to an end. And my time is up.
Removing my arm out from underneath her, I slide out of bed and look over her. She didn’t move. The poor thing is exhausted. I want her to remember me. The me who loved her. Not the me who blackmailed and treated her like shit. Not the me who is about to leave her as if she never meant anything to me.
The alarm on my phone begins to buzz, and I pick it up off the nightstand, turning it off. It was set just in case I managed to fall asleep. I didn’t. I’ll have plenty of time to do that for the rest of my life. However long that may be.
By the clock on my phone, I have an hour to get to where I need to be. I bend down, reaching up underneath the bed, grabbing what I need and unzip my bag. I remove the contents and begin to attach them to each corner post of the headboard.
Then I sit down on the bed next to her. Gently, I brush her dark hair from her face before pushing her onto her back. She lets out a soft moan, and I can only pray that she’s dreaming of me.
First, I grab the pillows and toss them to the floor. I need everything out of my way for what I have planned. Grabbing her right arm, I pull it to the corner post of the bed, and I begin with a single column tie around her tiny wrist before I secure it with a Burlington bowline. She can pull on it all she wants, and it won’t collapse. Then I walk around the bed and do the same with her left arm.
“Haidyn,” she whispers, arching her neck, but her eyes remain shut. She gently pulls on her outstretched arms that are secured to each corner post of the headboard.
“You’re going to be fine, doll face,” I tell her, moving to the end of the bed. I grab her ankles, straightening her legs, stretching her arms a little farther. I need it to be as tight as possible. Otherwise, she’s going to hurt herself.