Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
I’m off the coffee table, kneeling on the ground, spreading her thighs, and wedging myself between them. My hands cup her cheeks, body on top of body. It’d be better if we were naked. That’s just me being selfish. Right now isn’t the time for that. “I want your full attention on me when I tell you this, Carsynn.” She nods, lips pursed and hands going to my forearms while hitching her legs over my hips. “I get that shit was bad for you before you rolled into Plaine Hill. I’m not sure how bad, and soon you’ll tell me, when you’re ready. I’ll be here to listen. Now, I know you’re gun shy after the accident. I would be, too. I can promise you this, I’m going to be damn careful today and every other day. My goal is to come home to you every night and wake up to you every morning.” She blinks away the tears as much as she can. What slides down her cheeks, my thumbs wipe clean.
“Gabe,” she tries to interrupt, and as much as I love the sound of her voice, she needs to hear this more.
“One more thing, fairy, then the floor is yours. Bernie and I have lost a lot in our lives. He’s extra careful, and so am I. He calls me three times a day when I’m not in town. He called me every ten minutes like clockwork when I was out searching for you. The phone rings while we’re snowed in, and he’s calling to check in on us, or I’m doing the same to him. Bernie won’t do anything to take that away from you or himself.” She nods, her lips quivering, and she’s falling a-fucking-part. All I can do is hold her until she settles down.
18
CARSYNN
“I’m sorry. I swear I’m not usually a crybaby,” I blubber into Gabe’s neck as he holds me while I have a meltdown like a four-year-old when they don’t get the toy they’ve been eyeing at the store. Gabe wraps me up in his body further. A sheet of paper couldn’t fit between the two of us with how close he’s holding me.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You need to cry, let it out. You need to scream, let it out. You need to hit something, let it out. I’m here for you, Carsynn, no matter what.” I suck back my tears along with other gross fluids that an ugly jag makes you let loose. Through it all, Gabe remains my rock. A man I only dreamt about having, one who you only see in book boyfriend material. And while he may not be my boyfriend, fiancé, husband, or really a label. What he is, is everything to me.
“I’m okay. My past, it’s not pretty. My parents are addicted. Dad to alcohol, Mom to drugs, mainly pills, but I’ve seen the track marks, too. I don’t know why I stayed for as long as I did. Their addiction took over my life, made me realize they loved their vice more than me. My mom, God, she was the worst of the pair.” It’s hard for me to look at Gabe while I admit how much my parents didn’t like or love me. I’m still dealing with my childhood trauma. I’ll be a work in progress, there’s no doubt about it. It’s hard not to have flashbacks or worry you may translate your past situations into your future. Especially when there’s a relationship involved or children. What I do know for certain is I’m going to work on breaking the cycle. My children will know they’re loved and adored, unconditionally. I close my eyes for a moment, a memory hitting me like a ton of bricks. Mom pushed me to hide in the closet, turning off the lights and telling me to be quiet, or else I wouldn’t get dinner that night. I was only seven, thinking it was totally normal until strange sounds came through the thin door. There were lots of slaps, thumping, and screams. All I could do was move away, huddle myself in the corner, and wait. I hugged my legs to myself until the noise became unbearable. My hands slapped over my ears so hard I was seeing stars. I stayed quiet, though, even when I was whimpering with the need to go the bathroom. I did what my mom said. Still, when she opened the door and saw the state I was in, tears and snot running down my face, head held in shame because I couldn’t hold the need to go the bathroom, Mom snatched me up by my arm, marched me into the bathroom, told me to clean up in the nastiest way possible, and still I went to bed hungry.
“Look at me, fairy. You don’t have to tell me everything. I can piece together enough to know you went through a lot.” This man, he amazes me. No one, and I mean no one, has ever made me feel like he does. I’m not a number in the world. I’m a person, his person.