Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
I place the fork down on the table and look him right in the eyes. "Look, I know you’re trying to help, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful because I’m not. But I don't want new books. I want my stuff, the stuff my mother and I worked hard to buy. I refuse to let those things go to waste and toss them out because I can buy new ones. Then there’s my notes for classes. Those aren’t replaceable and are in my old laptop, as well as a number of notebooks. I can't replace that stuff without taking the classes over again."
There. I even did it without hissing at him.
"It’s whatever you want, Bel. Do what you like." He dismisses me without another glance and goes back to scrolling on his phone and drinking his coffee.
But is it really? I can’t help but wonder if there’s a hidden agenda. I also kind of want to smash his stupid cup.
I pick my fork back up and continue eating while I watch him cautiously, both wanting to get to know him better and not getting too close for fear that he’ll disappear. His appearance is well put together. Today, he's added a coat and tie to his usual dress slacks and button-down. "Going somewhere?"
He jerks his gaze to mine, then notices me staring at his clothes. "Not really, why?"
"You usually don't give so much banker chic this early in the morning."
His full lips fold into a straight line while he narrows his eyes at me. "If we are commenting on each other's apparel..." His gaze flicks down to my clothing. “You’ve got the whole stay-at-home-mom style down pat, minus the spit-up on your sweatshirt.”
"Thanks, jerk." I eat some more food, feeling a little lighter for the teasing. “Your cup looks like it came out of a toy set.”
It feels right, good. Mom would have loved him. I just know it.
My heart seizes in my chest, and I let the fork clatter to the plate. Every time I remember she's gone, it feels like I’m getting hit by a truck all over again.
"You okay?" Seb’s deep voice drags me back to reality, and I notice him crouching beside my chair, his hand resting gently on the armrest.
I swallow thickly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just the usual reminder of her not being here anymore.” Emotion clogs my throat, but I refuse to cry. I can’t continue with life if I start crying every time I think of her. “If you’re good with it, I’m going to grab my coat and head over to the dorm to get my things.”
"You never have to ask my permission to leave, Bel. You’re not a prisoner here. This is your home, and I’m your brother. I don’t want to control you. I just want to keep you safe. Now, do you really think it’s a good idea to go back there?" The concern etched into his handsome features makes me pause, and I know he’s not lying.
I shrug and try to curl my mouth into something more than a wince. "I don’t know if it’s a good idea, but it’s the only one I have. I can’t keep hiding behind the four walls of that bedroom. I can’t keep pretending she’s not gone. I have to try… I'll just go in, grab my stuff, and leave as quickly as I came. I doubt Jackie will even be there."
The memory of my friend, or who I thought was my friend, burns like drops of acid on my skin.
“I can send someone with you, or maybe I can come with you if that would make you feel more comfortable?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not going to hide behind you. You might be my brother, but I’m capable of protecting myself, and I’m not scared of Jackie or Drew. At some point, I will have to face them. It’s best to get it over and done with.”
He nods and returns to his seat, but I can still feel his eyes on me. He’s waiting for me to shatter so he can pick up the pieces again, but I’m tired of breaking. Tired of being seen as fragile. Seconds tick by, and I notice the way his jaw tenses. I can see Seb wants to say something or ask something, but he hasn’t spoken yet.
“What’s up? If your jaw gets any more tense, you’ll have to go to the dentist for your broken teeth.”
His lips turn up into a smile. "I’m just thinking… do you think I look like her at all?”
My heart lurches in my chest. He’s been so focused on helping me survive and overcome the grief that I’m not sure he’s even grieved himself. I tend to forget that he, too, lost a parent. A parent he never got the chance to develop a relationship with.