Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
At first, I told myself she was sick. She said it, after all. Pale, tired, not feeling good. But it’s been seven days, and my Jami doesn’t stay sick this long. Not without seeing Doc Kelly, not without letting me fuss over her until she throws a pillow at my head to shut me up.
This is different.
She doesn’t kiss me. Not on the lips, not even a quick peck on the cheek. She turns her head so it lands on her hair or her temple.
She doesn’t touch me in bed. No tangling her legs with mine, no curling against my chest, no hands roaming lazy over my skin while we drift. She lies stiff, like she’s trying to take up as little space as possible.
And the sex? Gone. It’s been two weeks since I’ve had her, since I’ve felt her body under mine, since I’ve heard my name in that broken whisper that makes me believe in every damn thing. I’m crawling out of my skin, not from the lack of release, but from the lack of being one with her.
Every night I ask, and every night she shuts me out.
“What’s wrong, Tiny?”
“Nothing, Tommy. I’m just tired.”
Bullshit.
I know her. I know every breath, every twitch, every shadow that crosses her face. She’s hurting. She’s drowning. And she won’t let me in.
It’s eating me alive.
Tonight, I come home from a site job with dust in my hair and sweat down my back. I’m already half-rehearsing the speech I’m gonna give her — gentle but firm, the one where I tell her I love her too much to keep circling each other like this.
But when I walk in the door, the air goes still.
The house smells like lemon cleaner, but underneath it, there’s that sharp tang of panic.
Her bags are by the door.
The green duffel. The black roller. Her purse sitting on top like a damn cherry on a sundae.
My heart drops to my boots.
“Jami?” My voice cracks.
She steps out of the bedroom, eyes red, cheeks wet. Her hands shake, clutching the little jewelry box I gave her the night she said yes.
And before I can move, before I can think, she holds it out to me.
“Tommy,” she whispers, voice breaking. “I can’t do this.”
The words slam into me harder than any punch I’ve ever taken.
“What?” I choke out. “Tiny, what are you saying?”
Her tears spill faster as she pushes the box into my hand. “I can’t marry you. I can’t… be with you.”
My chest hollows out. The ring inside feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. “Where the fuck is this coming from? You love me.”
“I do,” she sobs. “God, I do. And that is why this doesn’t work. I can love you, but I can’t be with you. Please don’t make me explain.”
I grab her hands, desperate. “Then don’t explain. Just stay. We’ll figure it out. Whatever it is, we’ll fight it together. That’s what we do.”
She yanks away, shaking her head hard, hair sticking to her wet cheeks. “No. Not this time. I can’t fight it. I can’t drag you into it. I have to go.”
“Like hell.” My voice is sharp, breaking at the edges. “You’re not walking out that door. You’re mine, Jami. We promised to ride life together.”
That’s when she snaps.
Her eyes blaze, her voice cracks like thunder. “I never asked you for this life, Tommy! Even if it’s beautiful, even if it’s good. I never asked. I’ve never asked you for anything.”
I flinch like she hit me.
She takes a breath, shuddering. “But I’m asking you now. Let me walk out that door. Don’t follow me. Don’t call me. Don’t try to bring me back. I need to live life for myself, or I’ll never be free.”
The silence after feels like the world ending.
My throat burns. My chest aches so bad I press a hand to it like I can hold the pieces together. “Tiny, Jami, baby…” I whisper, but my voice breaks.
She shakes her head, tears dripping. “Please, Tommy. If you love me, I need you to let me go.”
I want to scream. I want to punch the wall until my hands break. I want to throw her over my shoulder and lock the damn door until she remembers that she’s mine, that she said yes, that we were supposed to be forever.
But she’s looking at me with those eyes, pleading, broken, desperate. And I can’t be the man who cages her when all she’s ever wanted was freedom.
I open the box holding the ring. I look at the shining diamond, glistening and unmarred like our love had been. My hand shakes as I close the box around the ring. It clicks shut like a coffin. I put it on the counter because I can’t bear to hold it.
And then I stand there as the love of my life picks up her bags.