Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 200280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1001(@200wpm)___ 801(@250wpm)___ 668(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1001(@200wpm)___ 801(@250wpm)___ 668(@300wpm)
He folds his arms across his chest. “So let’s talk now.”
I take him in.
And swallow.
Or more like, gulp in nervousness.
“So,” I clear my throat and begin. “As you already know, I loved you. Back then, I mean.” I wrinkle my nose, embarrassment already creeping in, especially when he’s staring at me with such intensity. “I ran after you. I chased you around and just did everything that I could to make you fall in love with me. Of course that never panned out and… you ended up breaking my heart thirteen months ago. Anyway, for the last year, all I did was try to forget you. I tried to put you out of my mind and live my life. I tried to move on. And I thought that I had. I really thought that I had.” I take a deep breath. “But as it turns out, I haven’t. I mean I have, but not completely. I’m only half moved on, if you will. I mean, exhibit A: the way I kiss you. I should be pushing you away and screaming murder or something but I…” I lick my lips, my cheeks burning something fierce. “But I latch on to you like a… like a ho, or a very enthusiastic environmentalist who hugs a tree in the park that’s going to be cut down.”
Oh God, why did I have to put it like that?
But moving on.
“Which is not flattering at all, and I don’t like it. Actually I hate it. I really fucking hate it. So I’ve come up with a plan. And it’s to find closure.”
I stop here because, well, I need a break.
I need to breathe.
And I need for him to say something.
Anything.
And he does, with the same expression as he had before I started talking. “Closure.”
Although I don’t think it helped.
His one word and unchanged features.
In any case, I’ve come this far, haven’t I? I might as well go all the way.
“Yes.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “I think I’m hung up on you because I haven’t had any closure. Any sense of things being over between us. I mean, one minute I’m thinking that you’re in my dorm room to confess your love for me and the next, I’m finally realizing the truth about you. I’m finally realizing that you’ll never confess your love for me because you’ll never see me as anything other than your rival’s sister. So I…”
I pause because there’s finally a movement on his frame.
He’s moving his jaw back and forth, and his chest is undulating in big waves.
And for the first time I know that this is the face of his regret. The face of his anger directed at himself.
Which makes me waver once again.
It weakens my resolve a little.
Do I really need to do this? Revenge and all that.
Still I continue, “So when I said that I don’t want you to get beaten up by my brother or try to punish yourself like that, I meant it. Because that’s not what I need from you. I don’t need you to break your bones. I don’t need you to bleed for me. What I need from you is closure. So I can move on. So I don’t have to think about you every single day. So you don’t have the power to make me cry anymore. So I don’t feel the pain anymore, the pain you caused. So I don’t ache and feel lonely and feel like I’ll never be happy again.”
He waits a bit to answer me.
But I don’t blame him. Because I don’t think he’s doing it on purpose.
It’s just that I don’t think he’s capable of speaking right now.
I think for now, he needs to let his remorse and fury move through him. He needs to let these emotions run their course before he can speak.
Which he does a few seconds later.
He unhinges his tightly clamped jaw and says in a low, rough voice, “And how do you propose I give you that?”
“By f-fucking,” I blurt out before I lose my courage.
“Fucking.”
“Yes.” I jerk out a nod. “I-I mean, it shouldn’t be a hardship for you. Because it’s not like you’re immune to me either. You came on to me the other night. I know you said that you wanted to give me a better kiss than our first one. But you didn’t have to. I never asked you to. You chose to kiss me. You wanted to kiss me. It was all you.”
“It was, yeah,” he replies instantly, without hesitation or any sarcastic comment.
Which kinda steals my breath for the next couple of seconds.
But I manage to find it and continue, “And if just the sight of my panties is fucking with your head, then you’ve got a problem too. You’re into me. You may not have…” I fist the tassel I’m playing with, “loved me back then, but you wanted me. You still want me. So it’s for both our benefits.”