Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
My mind does unfair things as I look over the trees and the ocean. It turns the small figures in the water on the other side of the island into my children, and I imagine the one watching them is Brooke, their mother, with a maternal love-filled smile on her face.
She’s watching, encouraging, always there for them, always ready to support them.
She’s everything a mother should be and more.
She’s mine.
I take out my phone again, go to the text screen, take a breath and type out a message. I attempt to steel myself the same way I do at work when I have to perform an uncomfortable task.
Brooke, I never should have said that. I didn’t mean it. I don’t think we should do this anymore. We both know we’ve gone far enough already. We both know this can only end badly. This isn’t because I don’t care about you. It’s not because I don’t want you.
It’s because I DO care about you and want you just too much.
But I can’t bring myself to send it.
All I can think about is her gorgeous features crumpling up in agony, the pain of us separating. That’s if she’s going to feel the pain with the same intensity as I am. If she’s going to let it shatter her the way it’s ripping through me.
My phone buzzes, and a text appears.
Are we okay?
Quickly deleting my message – I could never send her something like that – I compose a reply. I feel myself getting sucked into our closeness again, the heat of it.
Everything else begins to fade except us.
Yeah, always. I shouldn’t have left like that.
This message is far easier to send. I can’t have her sitting there, wondering, not knowing how much I care about her.
Why did you? she asks.
This would be a good moment to downplay what I said as the fury of the lust claimed me. It would be the ideal time to tell her I left because I didn’t want her to take my words literally.
Instead, I tell her the truth.
She’s my woman. She deserves it.
I was terrified you were going to tell me you don’t feel the same. It’s absurd for me to think you would. But there it is. I was scared you would tell me you don’t want kids, a family. This is just a fling. We’re moving too fast.
I send it, then stand and pace the rock from one edge to the other. It’s impossible for me to sit still as I wait for her to reply.
I feel like I’ve just dragged out a piece of my heart, a piece I didn’t even know existed before I kissed my Brooke.
A vibration comes. I check my phone.
So you really meant it? You weren’t just dirty-talking?
She’s giving me another chance to back down. Maybe she wants me to.
I could tell her it was all part of the lust, nothing more, and we could go on as we are… or not go on at all. But I’m not sure I’d be able to do either without her knowing the truth.
I meant it, I tell her. Every word. Do you want the whole truth, Brooke? I’m warning you. You’ll probably think I need to see a psychiatrist.
I want it all, she replies instantly.
I take a moment to look over the sea again. Even the winking water reminds me of my woman, of the way her eyes watered as she reached climax or the uncertainty in them before she fled into the bathroom.
The truth, then, Brooke….
At your party, it was like seeing you for the first time. There you were, this beautiful, sexy, charismatic, loving woman. And all I could think about was how you belong to me and how no other man should ever be able to touch you.
Because you’re MINE.
That’s the reason I took the job in Tokyo. I had to get away from you. I knew if I kept seeing you, kept hearing your laugh, I’d become even more obsessed. I told myself something completely insane…that I could forget about you.
I failed. It was never going to work. I thought about you every night. Sometimes those thoughts were sexual. Other times, they were about the future. They were about our wedding. They were about our family.
I’ve never felt this way before, never felt anything close to it.
The truth is, Brooke, I love you.
I pause, my breath coming fast, the deluge of feeling far stronger than any drug, drink, hobby, anything.
It’s a sensation entirely on its own. It’s her.
Reading it over quickly, I delete the last line, my declaration of love.
If this isn’t love, I don’t know what it is, but it’s a lot already. It’s enough for her to know my full possessive desire.
Quickly pressing send, I begin to descend the rocks, breathing steadily, focusing on the climb and nothing else.