Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
But the shit they’d said and done to her using my name was a whole different story. The longer I sat there, the more upset I became because the more I read, the more disgusted I became. Not just with them but with myself. How had I let it come to this?
It breaks my heart to think that she’d gone through that shit alone. Sure, I knew her girls would’ve been with her. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that that Sydney chick always has my girl’s back. But even there, it appeared that I’d been used as well.
There was some kind of fight between Sydney and me that I knew nothing about. Someone else had once again used my accounts to attack her, and if I knew anything about her, she was not one to back down from a fight. Though I was sure she must hate me right now, I was doubly certain that with her in my girl’s corner, she was going to be alright.
But who had used my accounts in this way? And what was their purpose? If only I could remember everything that had gone down, but I don’t, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever get those memories back. I have to do something, though; things can’t go on like this. But first, I have to make sure she gets out of that hospital bed in one piece. Then I’m going to war.
Chapter 19
*Ryder*
For the next three nights, I went to see her in that hospital bed. I’d just sit there holding her hand and watching her sleep the way I used to when we were together, and only the sight of her face in slumber could bring me peace.
I paid a hefty sum for information on how she was doing since I could only see her while she was asleep. The reports were good; she was doing better with the tests they gave her and was even speaking up in therapy, which she wasn’t doing when she first got here. I read between the lines enough to gather that though this last round of attacks had hit her hard, it was me and our breakup that was the real problem.
Knowing that was twofold. On the one hand, it helped alleviate the fear I have been carrying around ever since I started coming back to my senses. The fear that she would never forgive me, never give me another chance. On the other hand, I hated this for her, hated knowing that she was still carrying that pain in her heart, and I wasn’t there to mend it.
Whatever they were doing might be working during the daytime, but seeing tear stains drying on her cheeks every night was destroying the hell out of me. I wanted to kiss them away the way I used to when we were lovers but dared not take the chance. It was that last night that it really hit home that I was that close to her in the flesh when I felt for sure that it would never happen ever again in this lifetime.
The first few nights, I’d been too worried about her to think about anything else. I don’t know what I was thinking; maybe the same way I’d found comfort and solace just by her presence that I could do the same for her.
But that last night was hard. Maybe because I knew that I would be leaving her soon and that I wouldn’t be able to see her again once she returned home, not for a long time anyway. I damn near had a panic attack followed by the most insane thoughts and scenarios that played out in my head as she slept.
I gave serious thought to bundling her up in the woolen blanket her grandmother had knitted for her years ago that sat on the foot of her bed and taking her out of there. We could just disappear somewhere together and leave this all behind.
But she’d never go for that, and I couldn’t ask her to. Besides, I’d be taking her choice away if I kidnapped her ass and stole her away somewhere, though I’ve got to admit I’m not too pressed about it. Still gotta work on my issues, but dammit, she’s mine. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought of her in that way. A long time since I believed I had the right.
That night unlike the others, I studied her face as if memorizing every little thing about it. Even though I was there, I was already mourning the time when I wouldn’t be. And then she sighed my fucking name in her sleep.
I held onto her hand with one of mine and bit into the other to keep the roar of anguish locked inside. It’s been so long since I’d heard my name said in just that way, the way only she could say it. Rye, she was the only one who could get away with calling me that since it always reminded me of damn bread. She did use to like to tease me about it, and we’ve had many a pillow fight over the issue.