Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
I look at the door, at the cabinet blocking it. Each time I’ve been forced to move it so I can use the toilet, it’s become heavier and heavier. I’m desperate for a piss now. But, again, scared to leave. Not because I’m afraid of what I might do or who might be out there, but because leaving means facing my reality. A reality without Ava.
A reality where I put my dick in two other women. A reality where I might go straight to the bar to drown my misery.
I sigh and go to the cabinet, taking the edge and engaging my body to pull it away. It doesn’t budge, not an inch, and I’m quickly out of breath trying to make it. “Fucking hell,” I murmur, flopping back against the wall, feeling weak.
The sound of something hitting the window pulls my attention to it, and I find Sam’s face squished up against the pane, his eyes searching inside my office. My usually cheerful mate looks worried, and when he eventually finds me slumped by the door, he shakes his head. I drag my tired body across the room and open the window, exhausted, my hands falling to the ledge to hold me up. “Hey.” My voice sounds strained, my throat sore.
“Mate,” he says on a sigh, his worried eyes running up and down my bedraggled form. “What on earth?”
I close my eyes, inhaling, trying to soothe my straining lungs. Even breathing hurts. “I don’t want to go back to this shit, Sam,” I say to my darkness, unable to face him. “I can’t go back to this shit.” I’ll be dead before I’m forty, and now I’ve had a taste of heaven, I feel like I’m eternally screwed. I can’t survive this hell.
“Then don’t go back,” he says, as if it’s that simple, and I look up at him. He smiles mildly. “Don’t go back, Jesse.”
“I need help.” It’s the first time in my life I’ve admitted it. “And I have no idea where to turn.”
He reaches through the window and takes the top of my arm. “We’re all here for you, mate.”
All. That’s not true. Ava’s not here. But I appreciate his sentiment.
I inhale and push myself upright, noticing Sam’s in his running kit. “Been or going?” I ask.
“Been. Come on, we need to get some food inside you.” He backs away, and I look back to my office door.
“I can’t move the cabinet,” I admit, pulling Sam back to the window. He looks across to the door and rolls his eyes, clambering up into my office. “Thanks,” I say quietly as he paces across the room, me following slowly. He takes one side, me the other. He knows I’m not just thanking him for his help moving this lump of wood.
We shift the cabinet back into place, and I take an encouraging breath as I leave my office. The Manor is quiet as we walk through side by side. “Full English?” Sam asks when we make it to the bar.
I blow out my cheeks. I should be hungry after days of only a liquid diet, but I’m not sure I can stomach it. “Just some toast.” I take a seat in the corner while Sam orders, looking at the screen of my phone and clearing the endless texts and missed calls. None from Ava. Still.
Sam returns with coffees, loading mine with sugar and setting it in front of me. My hands shake as they carry it to my mouth, and it doesn’t escape Sam’s notice. “Talk to me,” he orders softly. “What the fuck happened?”
“I realized everything is impossible,” I admit, looking past him when I see John in the foyer. He clocks me, sees Sam too, and nods, impassive, before carrying on his way.
“Is drink the answer?”
I shake my head. “There is no answer.”
“There’s always an answer.” He stirs his coffee, his full attention on me. “You’re in love with her.”
I glance away. “I don’t know what love is.”
“Don’t bullshit me,” he says, sounding a little irate. “You know what love is. Love is scary. It hurts and, correct me if I’m wrong, you are in agony right now.”
“What are you saying?”
He moves in, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m asking you if it hurts more with her in your life, or without her in your life.”
“Stupid fucking question.”
“Then why the fuck are we having this conversation?”
My fist balls, my knuckles turning white. “We’re having the conversation because even though I’m in agony, I know Ava is not. She’s—”
“How do you know?”
I sit back, frowning. “What?”
“How do you know she’s not hurting?”
“Sam, she spent over a week doing everything she could to avoid me. Every time I thought we’d made progress, she’d back away again.”
“Yes, because she’s probably falling in love with you and, like I said, love is fucking scary.”