Total pages in book: 221
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
“What?”
“I said, maybe I should –”
My eyes are stinging with tears and I’m shaking with anger as I jab a finger at him and let the hiss of words flow free. “I know what you said. That’s rich coming from you, don’t you fucking think? Since you’re the FUCKING ALCOHOLIC!”
Cass
Ant’s eyes are savage and cold as he folds his arms.
“Gerwyn told you I’m an alcoholic, did he? Fucking asshole.”
I feel like a stupid bitch as soon as he says his name. Like I’ve tossed Gerwyn off a cliff.
“Were,” I say. “He said you used to have alcohol problems.”
Damn, my words sounds slurred, but Ant’s are sharp as razors when he crouches down in front of me.
“And I’ve told you, Cass. Gerwyn is a dramatic prick, making a mountain out of every pathetic little problem that crosses every path he sees.”
I try to keep my focus, and manage it well enough to meet his eyes, even though the room is blurring around him.
“You said you didn’t drink. Not since you were younger,” I counter, trying to keep hold of my thoughts, but Ant shakes his head with a sigh.
“And I wasn’t lying. I was younger. Younger emotionally, and younger physically. I don’t have an alcohol problem now, do I? I’m pretty certain you’d have seen it if I did.” He gives my pussy another wipe clean. “Gerwyn’s talking about a fair while ago. I was working long hours and getting caught up in it, with too many weekends out with the guys from work. An evening glass of wine turned into several, which turned into shots of vodka at the weekends, which turned into shots of vodka in the week. But it was hardly a big deal, no matter what Gerwyn spouts on about.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. I had a couple of sessions with a therapist who confirmed the same, and I haven’t touched a drop of it since. I’ll do you a blood test and breathalyser if you doubt my word.”
“No,” I say. “You don’t need to. I don’t doubt your word.”
“Good,” he replies. “I’d fucking hope not. I can’t believe Gerwyn’s been spewing such bullshit behind my back, the ignorant cunt.”
I hate myself when I see the hurt on Ant’s face, for both dropping Gerwyn in the shit and pulling Ant up on crap I shouldn’t have.
“Gerwyn wasn’t being ignorant,” I argue. “He was being caring. He was checking in with me to make sure you’re doing ok.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. Crusading against overblown problems, just like he does for the rest of mankind.”
“I mean it,” I say. “He was being caring. He wanted to know how you were doing, and he thought I’d already know about you drinking vodka.”
“And neither of you thought you might mention it to me? This caring conversation? How fucking lovely.”
I feel like a fresh round of stupid as I shrug again.
“Gerwyn wanted to tell you he’d said it and apologise, but I asked him not to.”
Ant raises an eyebrow. “Why the hell did you do that?”
I choose to be honest this time, feeling tears in my eyes at the whole crazy argument.
“Because I didn’t want to risk hurting you like I did with the finger puppets. I thought you’d share any problems you might have when you wanted to, if you wanted to, and I didn’t want to push you away.”
“Hey, baby,” he says, and pulls me into his arms with a shhh. “I’ve told you before that the finger puppet incident was my bad. You don’t need to hold back from me. You’re going to be my wife, and that kind of commitment comes with truth and faith, and if you need to confront things to believe in me, you need to do that.”
“Yeah, it does come with truth and faith, and I do believe in you. I should have checked it with you and I’m sorry,” I say through tears, ashamed of the whole sorry mess.
I can’t believe I’ve dumped Gerwyn in the shit and that I’ve held back from talking to my boyfriend when he’s the most loving, generous man I’ve ever known.
I can’t believe I thought Ant was a secret alcoholic, downing bottles of vodka and not telling me. I can’t believe I would have even considered that in a million years.
“Stop it, Cass, I forgive you,” he says when he sees my mind still churning. “We need to get you to bed now. I need to hold you tight.”
He doesn’t try to get me to my feet, just lifts me straight up from the toilet and carries me through to the bedroom. I wince as he lowers me down onto the side of the bed.
I’d forgotten about my sore pussy in the emotional chaos.
“I’m going to get you a glass of water, princess. You stay right here.”
I wait for him, hating how my embarrassed tears roll down from my face, disgusted for exploding at him like that.