Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I walked into the kitchen to find August washing out the milk carton. Then, gaze on me, he opened the drawer where the garbage was located, and tossed it in.
“Alright, what the fuck?” August asked, making me jolt at his tone.
“What?” I asked, distracted by my own sadness.
“I just tossed a plastic milk carton in the trash and you didn’t lecture the shit out of me about it,” he said.
“Oh, right. I’ll get it,” I said, moving toward the trash, only to have him snatch it out and put it in the recycling bin instead.
“The point is I should be getting a tongue-lashing right about now for being so careless,” he said, ducking his head. “What’s going on?”
“I, ah, I think I’m a little frazzled from the visit with my dad,” I said. It was mostly the truth.
“I don’t think you’re telling me the whole truth,” he said.
“Can we maybe just talk about it tomorrow?” I asked. Hopefully after I got a hold of my feelings. “I just want tea and sleep,” I added, opening the small box I’d grabbed from the shop when we’d packed up the coffee.
“Yeah, alright,” he agreed, but his brows were still pinched as he watched me heat up water in the microwave since there was no kettle, then drop in my teabag.
I drank it in silence.
“Let’s go to bed,” I said, walking toward the bedroom, brushing my teeth, then climbing into bed.
“Baby…” August said when he was under the covers with me, clearly wanting to try to broach my mood again.
“No talking,” I said, sliding over him, my hair curtaining our heads, then sealing my lips to his.
We were slow and soft then, hands exploring without the usual urgency, stoking slowly spreading wildfires through us.
I ran my hands and lips over his face, neck, chest, stomach, then back up again, trying to memorize the feel of every inch of him.
My lips were on his as I took him inside, inch by inch, before moving backward and riding him.
Slowly, as his hands moved over me, as he told me how beautiful I was.
We came together a long time later, bodies spent and warm.
As I curled up at his side, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were never going to do that again.
That this, for all intents and purposes, was goodbye.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
August
I had a sister, girl cousins, a mom, aunts, and nieces.
I knew what a girl looked like the morning after crying over something.
The red eyes, the swollen lids, the splotchy cheeks.
That was exactly how Traveler looked as she moved out of the bedroom after getting dressed for the day.
The problem was, Aurelio was there, and I didn’t want to put her on the spot in front of him.
I could tell from one look at him, though, that he came to the same conclusion about Traveler.
“What did you bring?” Traveler asked, putting a little too much pep into her voice, making it sound extra false.
“I found a bakery that had some cool shit,” Aurelio said. “Chocolate croissants, cinnamon rolls as big as my palm…”
He didn’t even get to finish explaining before Traveler was reaching into the box, grabbing one of each of those, and taking big bites.
And when she was done with those, she reached for a coffee roll as well.
“I, ah, I picked up some parfaits too, for something healthy,” Aurelio said, pulling three out of the bags. He might as well not even have said it as Traveler devoured her coffee roll, then looked at what was left, trying to decide her next target.
Before she could, though, her phone was ringing, and her whole body was tensing.
With a small sigh, she wiped her hands, and reached for her phone, squinting at the number before answering.
“Hello?” she answered. “Dad? What number… oh. What? Did the doctors… that’s probably not a good… of course you did,” she sighed, shoulders slumping. “I, ah, yeah. We’re at a hotel,” she said, rattling off the name.
That explained it.
Her dad signed himself out of the hospital.
“No, I have your wallet,” she said. “Yeah, okay. Ah, sure. Yeah the presidential suite,” she said. “Okay. Yeah.”
She hung up, placing her phone very deliberately down on the counter, then pressing a hand to her stomach.
“I feel sick,” she admitted.
I had a feeling it had more to do with her father, for some reason, than the copious amount of sugar she’d just consumed.
“Here,” Aurelio said, going into the fridge to grab a soda. “Oh, don’t curl your lip,” he chastised. “Soda is good for nausea,” he told her as he popped the top and handed it to her.
Traveler wasn’t a stickler about food per se, not even the super processed shit. But she had an aversion to soda.
She grimaced as she sipped it, but she kept going, clearly not feeling great.
“So, your dad is coming,” Aurelio said.