Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Laying Maggie’s hand back down, I eased out of bed. She was a heavy sleeper, but I still moved quietly. My inner demons shouldn’t keep her awake too. Walking over to the window, I stared outside at the darkness lit by the streetlights.
Tomorrow Maggie would make me talk. She’d watched me all day with that all-too-knowing look. I couldn’t hide anything from her. I figured she hadn’t pushed me simply because of the jackass guy who had shown up to try and take what was mine. My anger at the idea of another man saying things like that to Maggie ignited again, and I had to take a deep breath to shove that down.
He was gone now, and I had other shit to deal with: getting my head clear and my fucking fears under control so I could move forward with Maggie. Brady was right. It was past time. If my mother hadn’t gone from a devoted, loving, adoring wife and mother to this person I no longer know, I would be engaged to Maggie.
“You distracted me with sex. Now it’s time talk to me.” Maggie’s soft voice broke the silence, and I turned to see her watching me. She was so damn beautiful. The thought of her changing, of her love for me fading, of what we have ending twisted my insides so tightly it made me ill.
“Please, West,” she said, sitting up in bed, her eyes never leaving mine.
I’d lost both parents the day my father died. I hadn’t known it then, but soon enough it had become obvious. Maggie had been my only constant. She was more than the woman I loved; she was my life. If I lost her. If she were to die, would I change? My chest ached inside me at the idea of a world without Maggie in it.
Yes, I would change. I’d lose my soul. She’d take it with her. Was that what had happened to my mother? Had her love for my dad been so intense that she couldn’t be the same person when he was gone, even for me?
As a kid, that had been the most painful truth. But as Maggie stood up and walked over to me, wrapping a sheet around her naked body, I understood. It wasn’t right, but I did understand it. Losing Maggie would destroy me. I needed there to be a God. I needed to start praying that he take me first.
“West,” she whispered as she reached me, touching my arm.
I pulled her against me and held her there. Feeling the beat of her heart, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Calming myself with knowing she was mine. She was alive.
“My mother got married again,” I told her.
The sharp intake of breath from Maggie told me that she understood my pain. Her arms tightened around me and held me.
“She hasn’t seen me in a year, but she’s married.” I said the words, realizing that was possibly what hurt the worst.
Maggie tilted her head back to look up at me. “I’m sorry,” she said simply. It was her way. She never said words to sugarcoat things. I loved that about her.
“It fucking hurts,” I said, looking down into her eyes. “But I realized something tonight. Something I’ve battled with and didn’t understand until now.”
Maggie waited for me to say more.
“I was her son, but she loved my father so fiercely that he was her world. He was her home. Losing him destroyed her, and… I can see how it did.” I reached up and cupped her face in my hand. “If she loved him the way I love you, then it makes it easier to accept. I couldn’t survive losing you, Maggie.”
She turned her head to kiss my palm, then looked back up at me. “You’ll never lose me,” she replied.
I couldn’t bring myself to even voice the fear of her dying before me. I just nodded my head once and then covered her mouth with mine. What I felt for her was bigger than even I could describe. It was more than simply love. There were no words for it, but I’d spend my lifetime showing her what I couldn’t express.
CHAPTER SIX
MAGGIE
I didn’t have much time to worry about the running water being loud enough to drown out the sound of my vomiting. All I could do at the moment was grip the toilet and pray this ended soon. West had still been in bed sleeping when my eyes opened this morning and the first wave of nausea hit me. I had been as quiet as I could, but getting to the bathroom quickly had been my first priority.
Last night after I had led West back to the bed, I had lain awake until his breathing had told me he’d fallen asleep. He was hurting, and when he hurt, so did I. Maybe he understood his mother’s actions now, but I wasn’t sure that I ever would. Telling him that didn’t help matters, though. I had remained silent and let him talk. That was what he needed most.