Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“I don’t know what you want from me,” he states, “I’m fine.”
“You act like I don’t know you, Nate.” I try to not freak out and keep my voice calm, but as it drags on, the nerves get the best of me and my voice goes higher.
“Do you know me?” he asks me and I have to wonder if he’s trying to start a fight with me.
“What the fuck does that mean? Of course I know you. How can you say that?” He shrugs. “Things would go faster if you just said what is bothering you and we can—” I don’t finish the sentence because he snorts out angrily.
“We can what?” he snaps. “What can we do?” I don’t know if he’s asking me or telling me. “We can’t do shit.” I see his eyes and they are greener than blue, making them almost look like they are golden. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the counter. “We can’t do shit about shit because this time next week you’ll be getting on a fucking plane and leaving.”
I open my mouth and then close it again. “Well, yeah, considering I don’t live here.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, I’m reminded every fucking day,” he snaps out. “But even knowing it, even telling myself it was just temporary, I fucking did it.”
“What did you do?” I wish the question I just asked him didn’t have me holding my breath. I wish the question I just asked him didn’t have me feeling sick to my stomach. I wish the question I just asked him didn’t have my whole body tight with nerves.
“I said I wouldn’t say it.” He runs his hand through his hair and then holds the back of his head with his hand. “But then I can’t not say it.”
“Whatever it is, you might as well just say it and get it over with,” I push, knowing he’s going to say it’s not a good idea for me to stay here any longer. That whatever this thing is should just be done with. Knowing when he does say those words, my heart is going to shatter and I’m going to have to pretend I’m fine.
“You want me to say it?” he asks and shakes his head. “Fine, I’ll say it.” I hold my breath, not sure what he’s going to say but not ready for the next thing that comes out of his mouth. “I’m in love with you.”
I feel the blood drain from my body. “I’m fucking in love with you and you are going to leave me. I’ve come to realize I have only ever fucking loved you the way I do. I’ve realized I’ve been holding myself back, waiting for you. I didn’t know it until everything just clicked into place. How I would stand back and not give myself to anyone. How I would keep whatever it was I had going on at arm’s length, knowing subconsciously I was waiting for you.”
“Nate,” I say his name, shock filling my body as the doorbell rings and I look down the hall.
“You have to go,” he states. “Go.”
“Nate,” I say his name again at the same time the doorbell rings again.
“There is nothing to say, Elizabeth,” he says softly. “I live here. You live halfway around the fucking world. I can’t do the long-distance thing, not after having you this week. It’ll be fine.” I look into his eyes. “Unlike seven years ago, we both know what is happening.”
The lump in my throat is so big, I don’t even think I would be able to say a word. The doorbell rings again and I feel like I’m stuck to the floor. The doorbell stops and now it’s followed by knocks on the door. “I’m going to go and get that.” He walks around the island and to the front door.
I close my eyes and look down, the first tear falls onto my cheek and I wipe it away as I hear my mother’s voice. “I thought she locked you in a room to stop from going out with me,” she says laughing.
He chuckles, acting like we didn’t just have the most intense conversation of our lives. “I was in the shower.” He makes the excuse. “I think she’s in the kitchen.”
I take a deep inhale, putting my hand to my chest to ease the tightness in it. I exhale a breath before walking into the hallway. “Hi,” my mother greets, looking over at me, the smile on her face fading a bit when she looks into my eyes, but she recovers. “I tried to call you,” she says, looking at Nate, who is looking at me and who I’m avoiding looking at right now. I’m not sure I can take it without the pain showing on my face.
“I have my phone on the charger in the kitchen,” I explain, pointing behind me. “I’ll go get it and we can go.” I walk away from the two of them. I grab my phone that I plugged in while I had a coffee this morning. I tuck it in the back pocket of my jeans and head back to the door.