Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
In short, there’s no way to explain the rush of emotion and feeling that consume my heart when I think about Bruce and Burke. But it’s not just about us anymore – it’s about a baby, and I’m over the moon with joy, even thought I have no clear path forward.
Now, time is ticking and a shiver runs down my spine.
“I’m going to fork over extra for your gown because you’re an XL, Annabel,” my father barks, his face red and his veins popping, “I’m going to have to spend more money on you, again. And all because you’re too fat to fit into normal graduation robes,” he roars.
I open my mouth to defend myself, but a sudden wave of nausea overtakes me, and my mouth closes with a snap. I’ve been throwing up in the mornings over the last few weeks, but it’s never happened in the evening before. It must be just a purely physical reaction to the utterly disgusting things my father is saying to me, as my mom sits stiff as a board once more.
“Answer me, Annabel,” Roger demands. “Don’t just sit there gaping. I need you to recognize, to my face, that you are aware that your being fat is costing me money.”
Has he lost his mind? Roger’s cruelty has always been extreme, but this is so over the top, and it makes no sense. So what’s an extra fifteen dollars to him? But I can’t think even about responding because the nausea takes a hold of me once more, and I suddenly bolt up, covering my mouth.
“Sit back down, right this instant!” bellows my father. But instead, I turn around and run out of the room, only able to hold off the vomiting until I charge through the nearest bathroom. I have just enough time to lock the door and throw open the toilet seat before I vomit violently, disposing of half of the dinner I just ate. Panting and sweating, I flush the toilet and wash my hands and face. As I stare at my reflection in the small vanity mirror, I see that my face is red and blotchy from the vomiting. In fact, I notice how much I look like my dad overall.
We have the same brown eyes, the same curly brown hair, and the same overall look. My face is just rounder, my lips fuller, and my brow softer. I know Roger has always been prone to chubbiness, and he’s beaten it out of himself. “Beaten” being the right word because his whole life, he spends at least five days a week at the gym and watches every morsel that passes his lips. He won’t accept any extra weight on his own frame, and maybe that’s why he hates me so much. Because I didn’t fight my natural body shape the way he did, but instead accepted being curvy as best I could, hoping someone would love me for how I am. It’s ironic that his self-hate has been directed at me for reasons I can’t control.
But I’m done trying to understand Roger. He’s twisted and venomous and nothing I do can change that. Plus, I’m done hoping he will show me love one day, especially after what I’ve experienced with Bruce and Burke. The criminals have demonstrated what real love is, and how it’s accepting and supportive, and not vitriolic and nasty.
Looking at my face in the mirror, I can see how much I look like Roger, but now, I also see the ways I’m different from him. Those are the parts that I want to honor. I’ve tried giving him a chance. I’ve tried showing him loyalty, even in the face of an opportunity to grow close after this Hamptons trip. But now, I’m done and I don’t care how long it takes for Bruce and Burke to come back because when they do, I’ll be right here waiting, and this time, I’ll take them up on their offer. I’ll help them rob my father blind. I’ll get the revenge that I didn’t even know I wanted, and leap at the chance to wreak havoc.
But where are my men? Stepping out from the bathroom, I don’t even bother going back to the dining room. I don’t care about the consequences, and at this point, there probably won’t even be any; me being locked away in my bedroom is just too convenient for my parents, and as a result, they won’t come looking for me.
Feeling a little better after throwing up, I go back to my bedroom and lock the door. Looking around at the lavish furniture, I feel lonely. I can’t possibly just wait around for Bruce and Burke to just show up again because it could be months. Frankly, it could be never, and my heart breaks. What if that’s what my future has in store for me? Will I really be raising this baby alone as a single mom?