Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 79183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
It’s not Disney.
I’m not Cinderella, even though for just a small moment, it kind of felt like a fairy tale. Maybe I’m too old to believe in them anymore because they aren’t something to believe in when all you have is yourself.
A horn honks, then honks again. I know it can’t be Ambrose; he’s still recovering from major surgery, but for one fleeting moment, my heart skips a beat, and I imagine him pulling over in one of his fancy cars and saying.
“Need a ride?”
I smile to myself. What a great fantasy, what a great dream. Maybe if I just stand still and let the wind blow against my face, I can have those moments of peace. I can build my own ending.
A tear slides down my cheek and onto the concrete in front of me.
I look down at my broken slides.
That first day with Ambrose in the bathroom.
Him kissing me in the kitchen.
Eating all the food.
Him taking me as I am, as I was, as I will always be.
The pool.
Quinn.
My hands start to shake.
I turn to the left. I’m on a bridge that leads right into downtown.
It would be easy. A voice whispers and taunts me to just take those memories and moments and keep them forever in my dreams, an eternal sleep.
I have perfect hope for the first time.
“That sounds nice,” I whisper to myself as I look out at the river; the sound of the water almost cools me down for a minute. “It’s dark, peaceful, deep… maybe if you fall into its depths, you’ll be set free.”
My hands shake as I drop the trash bag and grip the edges of the railing. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. But is this what people experience when the lights fade? When they’ve lost everything they were living for or suddenly realize it was all a lie, or maybe they were the problem all along.
I’ve been tempted by Ambrose.
Even Quinn.
I’ve been tempted by hope.
Dreams.
Tempted to steal away and give.
Right now, I’m tempted to take one step, one more grip. I’m tempted to do something I can’t come back from because something so against my character, something that would destroy everything, almost makes sense.
It should have been me in that car.
Me in that accident.
My sacrifice.
Is that selfish?
I stand up on my tiptoes, brace myself against the bridge, and then lean over it.
A few seconds go by.
I count to ten.
Strong arms embrace me from behind. The smell’s familiar.
“Don’t you dare.” The low voice rasps in my ear. “Do you even realize how long I’ve been looking for you?”
What a perfect ending I want to say, “Do you even realize how long I’ve been waiting?”
Great dialogue.
Great scene.
I almost laugh.
And then the arms embrace me harder, and I look down at the friendship bracelet Quinn always has on his left hand. It’s old, from some seaside town in Oregon, something Ambrose gave him forever ago; he joked he’d wear it until it fell off and his dreams came true.
I asked him why his dreams would come true when the bracelet left him.
He never said why.
But right now, he’s holding me. I can smell him, breathe him in. I lean back against his chest, and with shaking hands, he pulls the ragged strings of the bracelet loose with his teeth while still holding onto me.
It loosens. I stare down at the whitish-brown strings that are braided together with one small rock in the middle. The rock isn’t even pretty; it’s this grayish-blue-looking thing that’s held together by nothing.
“Dreams come true when you let them go,” he whispers in my ear. “You hold them in the palm of your hand for so long that it’s all you can feel against your skin. It imprints onto your body in such a way that you don’t even realize it.” I don’t know why, but I start to cry. “What nobody tells you is that dreams can very easily turn into nightmares when they linger too long, when they imprint in your soul, when you can’t see past them and only focus on them, they become bigger, and they shift.” He briefly lets me go, grabs the bracelet from his hand, and dangles it over the water. “Sometimes dreaming means letting go, not holding on. I was going to wear this until my dream came true and you know what’s so funny about that? My focus was so straightly focused on getting my best friend back, on fixing things, on things being so fucking perfect that I forgot what it meant to be a friend, what it meant to truly be there. I let my dream become a nightmare, and I used this as a symbol of what I needed to accomplish, like some trophy I’d get when I finally did it. I never needed it, and neither do you. You’re perfect the way you are, Mary-Belle. You have a boyfriend who loves you despite the hatred you feel for yourself sometimes. That’s what true friendship is. True love isn’t in the pretty—it’s born out of the ugly, so if you want to let go… take mine.”