Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Then why?” I asked.
“Why what?”
I opened my eyes and stared into his. “Why didn’t you ever come back? I needed you, Nathan. I needed you to come back for me. And I waited, and waited, and, oh my gosh…” Reality stumbled back into me as a moment of soberness snuck in. I shook his touch away from my skin and hopped up from his couch. “What am I doing? I can’t do this. I can’t…” Oh, gosh. Pull your drunk self together, Avery. “We can’t do this, Nathan.”
He stood. “Do what?”
“This,” I urged, gesturing between us. “We can’t be close like this. Physically and mentally. Especially when I’m drunk and sad. Especially on my wedding day.”
“Why not?”
“Because we aren’t us anymore. We haven’t been us for seventeen years. And we can’t be us. Not again.”
“Exactly,” he said as he stepped closer to me. “We aren’t the same stupid kids who made the same stupid mistakes. We’re grown now, Avery. I’m grown, and I wouldn’t hurt you again. Trust me. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“That’s what he said, too,” I whispered as the ache in my heart only intensified. “Because that’s what you men do—you lie to get what you want. And then a better opportunity comes, and you leave. And then my mind will try to move on while my heart keeps breaking in the silence, wondering why I was never good enough to stay. You left me for baseball. He left me for space. And here I am once again—alone with the pieces of my heart that I have to repair on my own.”
“Avery—”
“Can I go to bed?” I asked, still crying, still breaking, still drowning. “Please?” I whimpered, nodding down the hallway. “Can I sleep in your spare room?”
He hesitated for a moment before surrendering. “Yeah, sure. Second door on the left.”
I hurried down the hall, into the bedroom, and shut the door. I crawled into the bed and wrapped myself in the blankets. I hugged the pillow and cried into it, having the first emotional release I could remember. I fell apart completely on his satin pillowcases as all my heartbreak caught up with me. Years of hurt wept out of my eyes; years of pain that I kept stored deep within myself poured from my spirit.
I wanted it to stop.
I wanted the tears to stop falling, but that was the issue with holding so much in for so very long. Once the walls began to crack, a deluge was released, and there was no turning back. I had to feel everything, even if I didn’t want to do so.
And the only thing that kept crossing my mind as I sobbed into the pillowcase was how deeply I wished Mama was there to hug me. To hold me. To tell me everything would be fine. I deserved more time with her. I deserved more comfort through heartbreaks and more laughter during the happy days. I deserved to be able to call her whenever the world was swallowing me whole. I deserved her comforting voice to remind me that everything would be okay, even if it seemed like nothing would ever be okay again.
I deserved more of her love, and I wished she was there to hold me in her arms as if I were still her little girl.
It wasn’t fair that mamas could die.
Their daughters still needed them so very much, no matter how much we grew up.
15
AVERY
Iwoke with a headache.
I wasn’t sure if it was from the number of tears I’d cried or the abundance of red wine I drank. It took a moment for me to remember whose bed I was in and what had happened the day before, but once it all came rushing back to me, I felt an emptiness in my stomach.
I pushed myself up from the bed and walked over to the floor-length mirror.
My eyes were puffy from crying so much. It looked like wasps had stung my face due to the swelling. If I had any ounce of concern left in my body, I would’ve panicked at the sight of my face, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything, really.
Moving over to the bedroom door, I opened it, and as I began to walk out into the hallway, I paused when I found a sleeping Nathan sitting beside the door. I tilted my head in confusion at the sight of him leaning up against the wall. His chest rose and fell slowly as I stood there, baffled.
“Nathan,” I said, “wake up.”
He didn’t move.
I nudged him with my foot. “Nathan. Wake up.”
Nothing.
“Nathaniel!” I shouted.
With the shout, he shook himself and opened his eyes.
“What?!” he quickly remarked, dazed and confused. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and tilted his head up toward me. “Oh. Good morning.”
“What are you doing?”
“Waking up.”
“On the floor.”