Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
“How much of that did you hear?” he asked after several seconds had passed. He moved onto the step beside her, sitting down.
“All of it,” she said softly, not really caring about their fight because she knew she was about to throw up again. She turned her head, feeling humiliated that she was about to puke right in front of him, but she braced a hand on the banister and just let it all come out.
But what surprised her as she was in the middle of dry heaving was the fact Elijah pulled her hair back, keeping it away from her face. She would have thanked him, but her body ached, she was embarrassed, and the burping sounds that came from her intermittently had all conversation ceasing.
“You’ll feel better once it’s all out,” he said softly and started rubbing her back.
“I don’t think so because nothing else is left, and I still feel like shit.”
He started chuckling, and after a moment, he helped her up and into the house. “Come on, sit down, and I’ll get you some water and ibuprofen.”
Once inside, she sat on the couch, closed her eyes, and heard him leave to go into the kitchen. The sound of him opening the cabinet, the bottle of pills being opened, and then him turning on the faucet seemed so loud, she actually groaned. When she was about to lie down, he came back in the living room and touched her hand.
“Here, you’ll feel better after you’ve taken these.”
Freya opened her eyes, took the pills and water he offered, and once they were swallowed, she rested her head on the couch. For a second, she just stared at him.
“Why do you stay with her? She’s such a bitch.” Freya didn’t care if she was being bold. She might have thrown up until nothing was left, but she was still pretty buzzed and wanted to know.
He didn’t answer right away, but he did sit across from her and brace his forearms on his thighs. He stared down at the ground for what seemed like forever and then ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
“I don’t know if she ever planned on telling you this, or if even I did. I know you’re leaving for college in the fall and getting away will be so good for you.” He leaned back on the chair with dark hair mussed from running his fingers through it. His eyes seemed lighter, more sympathetic even. “We aren’t staying together. In fact, I’ve already gotten the paperwork for a divorce. I’m already looking for another place because I can’t stand to be here with her anymore.”
She sat up a little straighter. “She didn’t act like you guys were getting a divorce, not with her screaming at you even.”
He shook his head. “I was going to give them to her tonight and explain it all, but she started acting like, well, herself.” He exhaled again. “I haven’t been happy for a long time, and although I shouldn’t even be telling you these things, I know you haven’t been happy either. We’ll both be breaking away, Freya.”
She didn’t say anything because she didn’t know what to say.
“She never treated you right,” Freya finally said and leaned back again. “No one deserves to be trapped with her self-righteous, self-absorbed ass.”
He smiled lightly, but rather than it be from humor, it was kind of sad. “She has some self-esteem issues, and I think once she addresses those, she may be able to have a good life.”
Freya rubbed her eyes. “I don’t care if she ever has a good life. She’s an awful woman.”
“You’re drunk—”
“And you think that’s why I’m saying it?” she said and dropped her hand to the couch, staring at Elijah again. “No, I’m not so drunk that I don’t know what kind of evil bitch she really is. You deserve better than her. My father deserved better than her. And I deserve better than having to live with her.” The sadness of bringing up her father slammed into Freya harder because she was drunk, but she held back her emotions. “I should go to bed.” She stood, surprised she could stand fully.
She looked over at him and saw that he watched her with this guarded, hurt, and angry expression on his face. “Good night, Elijah,” she said softly. He smiled, but once again, it seemed a little forced, a little sad, as if he were doing the act for her benefit. “I’m really sorry things aren’t working out with Meghan. I meant it when I said you deserve better.”
“Thanks, Freya, and I’m sorry, too.” He didn’t have to say why he was apologizing because she knew. Neither of their lives had gone the way they planned or wanted, but they would make it work. They had to because if they didn’t, then what was the point?