Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Six fucking months of me being a worthless fuck and too afraid to confront her had ruined my happiness and any hope I could repair the damage.
And every single day, I hated my fucking self even more because of it. So when she called me just last month, asking for my help, I knew I had to make things right. It had to be fate that had her coming into my life once more.
I had to show her I’d been wrong, that what happened wasn’t her fault, that no matter what, no matter how things ended, she’d always have me in her life. I’d always have her back.
I watched as she finally started walking toward the house, her nervousness, her fear, clear on her face. I thought about her phone call, how she asked for a place to stay and that she’d pay me back. And I told her we’d find some way that she could.
I didn’t even know why I said it, didn’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to end the conversation on that note. She probably thought I was some dirty bastard, that I would be cruel to her. I didn’t blame her for thinking that. It wasn’t like I’d shown her anything different.
Because the truth was... I loved Lenora. I always had. Ever since my father married her mom and we moved in together. Ever since I saw how sweet and kind she was, how smart and beautiful she was.
Ever since I realized my life would never be the same without her in it.
And I’d fucked it up.
But now was my chance to make things right. We’d made the arrangement for her to live with me until she got on her feet. But what she didn’t know, what she’d find out sooner rather than later, was that I wasn’t going to let her leave. I would show her she was meant to be mine. Always.
I’d show her how wrong I’d been, that if I could take it back, I would.
I’d show her that even though I’d fucked up, I could make things right.
I’d fall to my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness.
But the wound it caused her was no doubt deep, and whether she believed me or not was another story.
Chapter Three
Lenora
My heart was thundering as I knocked on the front door and then took a step back, as if that foot of space would have some kind of shield, be some kind of wall to protect me. For six months, I replayed Beckham’s words in my head over and over again, this broken record that dug into my heart. They not only hurt because I cared about him, because he’d been part of my family—my life—but also because of how I felt for him on a more romantic level.
Because I was in love with him.
To this day, I still remember the progression of my feelings for him, how at first I’d noticed how attractive he was, then got to know him and loved his personality. He put on a good show of acting like he had no worries or cares, almost this aloofness about him. He was charismatic, and although he’d been the new guy at school, everyone had flocked to him. He was important.
And he always put me first, always made me feel as if no one could touch me, that I was better than anything that was negative and thrown in my way.
And as the years passed and we grew from teenagers to young adults, I found myself falling for him—maybe an inappropriate reaction because of what we were to each other, but a reality nonetheless.
But his words and anger had touched me, broken me. They’d crumbled and ruined the love I hoped—imagined—having with him one day.
But here I was, destiny and circumstance throwing a wrench in the mix and threatening to open up the wound in my heart once more.
And when that front door opened, I felt like everything around me froze, time standing still. My heart was the only thing in motion, beating rapidly against my ribs, painful and loud. Would he be able to hear it? I felt beads of sweat along my temples and gripped my bag tighter. Inside were my basic necessities. Everything else I accumulated over the years was in the storage facility, one that had been prepaid. One that only had one more month left. After that, I’d lose everything.
But I hoped while staying with Beckham and saving up money that I’d been able to find another place. Then I’d be able to figure out what I was going to do with my life.
Until then, I’d stay out of his way, mind my business, and keep my head down.
He held the door open with one hand, his other one extended as he braced it on the door frame. He said nothing as he stared at me. And I couldn’t read his expression, because he was stoic, silent.