Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 581(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Those three little words rip me in two.
Then he gives me a pained laugh that chills my soul.
“What’s the point of waiting for someone who’s so damn scared she won’t stop running from the past? To believe me when I tell her she isn’t cursed?” He pauses, shaking his head. “Let me go. I need to comb Mom’s house for that fucking plant, right down to every carpet fiber if I have to.”
“Patton. Patton!” The strength of my yell rips at my throat and I grab his arm, only for him to shake me off. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t—” Except I did and he knows it.
It’s been on my mind for weeks, this half-baked backup plan forged from my own deepest fears. All because everything was too good to believe it could last.
He doesn’t slam the door.
He just turns, looks at me one last time, and gently shuts it in my face.
But I fly after him, wrenching it open again.
“Wait, come back!” My voice bounces off the empty stairway as he runs down two steps at a time. My legs are shaking too much to chase after him. “Patton, please. Not like this…”
But it’s too late and it’s my own stupid fault.
My knees finally give out as the killing truth sinks in.
I fall on the steps, shoulders shaking as I cry, every bitter emotion I’d been suppressing flooding the surface as the sound of Patton’s footsteps slowly fade into a biting wind.
24
ALL BETS ARE OFF (PATTON)
Iwaste about an hour, mindlessly driving around Kansas City in a windstorm before I’m calm enough to go back to Mom’s.
I should have fucking known she’d self-destruct.
A few weeks in paradise can’t overcome a lifetime of trauma at the hands of her asshole parents.
I’m strong, but I can’t keep her together.
Not when she doesn’t trust me enough to let me.
Not when she doesn’t believe in herself like I do.
Not when I dropped those haunting words—I love you—and she couldn’t goddamn say it back.
Whatever happens with Arlo, she’s signaling it’s over.
The worst part is, I want to hate her and I can’t.
Hate would be so much easier than whatever this stewing emotional chaos is.
Anger, yes. But also a hurt I didn’t think I’d ever feel—the kind that tears out organs.
All because she’s a prisoner to this bullshit idea that she’s Miss Unlucky.
I chew on my thoughts so hard I accidentally bite my inner cheek.
The blood is just the icing on this rancid cake tonight.
The city is deserted with the chilly wind and it’s approaching midnight. A couple lonely, determined joggers sprint down dark streets.
Once, I might’ve joined them on a night like this that’s made for soul-eating thoughts.
Not now.
Not while my son is in the hospital.
You’ll always be in his life.
Her cruel promise drifts back to me and there’s so much to unpack there. I don’t have the brains or the balls to go back and hash it out with her.
How will co-parenting work when she’s on a fucking boat somewhere?
It’s clear she doesn’t expect me to be there by her side.
Does she want me to just hang around and wait until it’s convenient for her to come back for the odd weekend when I can see my son? Will I need a lawyer, hounding her for visitation rights?
Will Arlo be a tennis ball, slapped around like every couple who splits and can’t agree to anything?
Fuck, I hope not.
It can’t come to that.
But I can’t rip them apart, either. Whatever else she might be, Salem’s a great mom, and she has a good relationship with the boy.
I swing into a gas station lot and let my head thunk back against the seat. All this shit feels like a conversation for another time, when Arlo isn’t stuck in the hospital and I’m not rattled from her breaking things off the way she did.
Or did I break them off, too?
But what was I supposed to do when she told me she was leaving to chase a new dream that doesn’t include me?
This has clearly been on her brain for a while.
I have an ugly feeling this boat shit has been in the cards for weeks, even if it wasn’t spelled out until Arlo got sick. She’s just been waiting for the right time to bail because she just can’t handle the fact that I could make her happy.
That life might stop spitting in her face and let her have an honest to God family.
I don’t know if I hate her or I love her or it’s somewhere in between, this disgusting no man’s land haunted by her betrayal and Arlo’s poisoning.
All I know is, no matter how pissed I am right now, I won’t go hurting her.
My phone buzzes.
I’m sorry, Patton. I’m sorry a hundred times.
I’m back with Arlo. If you don’t want to talk right now, I get it. I’ll keep you updated and make sure you’re authorized to hear from the doctor.