Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
A force of nature that somehow winds down and becomes surprisingly caring. I always knew he was responsible to a fault, but I never knew he was also caring to a fault.
The way he touches me carefully, how focused he is, how he wipes my mouth like I’m a toddler—they all make my chest hurt, and it’s not because of the fucked-up ribs.
I try to eat as much as possible because I’m hungry, but I’m so uncomfortable that every swallow and breath feels like a marathon.
Once I’m finished with the simple task of eating, nearly dying, Vaughn sets the tray to the side, gives me meds, and helps me lie down again. Then he sits beside me on the bed. “Want any dessert?”
“A cigarette?”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re not smoking when your ribs are injured, Yulian. Every inhale will make your lungs suffer.”
“I was just kidding.” Not really. Could really use a smoke right now.
“Good, because you’re not getting one.”
“Yes, Mom.” I try to salute, and that triggers pain in my side and I groan. Fuck this, seriously. I’m like a breathing corpse.
Vaughn takes my hand and slowly pulls it down under the duvet. “Stop moving.”
“If I do that, will you tell me more about your visit four years ago?” I ask, then pant. This shit is ridiculous.
He settles on the mattress after tucking me in, staring at me for a few seconds, then at the wall opposite him. “That was all. I left after the conversation with your mother, and that was it.”
“No wonder Mom was panicking when I woke up.” I stare at the ornate ceiling—seriously, this place looks like a museum. “She made me promise to marry a woman and father kids. Bless her, she was horrified at the thought of the trouble I’d most certainly cause.”
“She just loved you,” he whispers. “She was scared for your safety and wanted to protect you, and her fear was correct, considering your father’s reaction.”
“You…don’t hate her?”
“For what? She was just being a protective mother.” He drags his gaze to me, and it glows in the near darkness. “She was crying, you know. I don’t think she was against us being together per se; she just didn’t want us to be the targets of a homophobic institution.”
“Yeah, she apologized for not birthing me in a different reality.” I move my feet and wince. “I love my mom, but I don’t like that she got between us. You could’ve been mine all these years, but I had to watch you sucking Danika’s face in that godforsaken parking lot instead.”
He frowns. “What are you talking about?”
I tell him the condensed version of my infamous trip to New York, which happened about a week after his trip to Chicago.
Once I’m done, I let out a breath. “I had to drag my ass back home afterward because Mom died and Alina became paralyzed, all because of my idiotic inability to let go.”
“Hey.” He runs his fingers through my hair like he does when I’m lying on top of him. “Your mom was sick, and Alina had an accident. It’s not your fault. If you want to blame someone, blame me for being a coward all along, for making you see that with Danika, even if not intentionally.”
I raise a shoulder, then suck in a sharp breath because my motherfucking body is apparently in a state of pissing me off. “You just went back to your crush.”
He shakes his head once.
“No?” I say hopefully.
“No,” he repeats.
“You said you had a crush on a girl, and you wanted her to be your first. Wasn’t that Danika?”
“Well, yes, but I didn’t get together with her for that reason. I liked her a bit, so that helped, but truly, I only went out with her to repress whatever illogical, ludicrous feelings I had for you. I had to forget about you. There was no other option.”
A wide grin curves my mouth, but it falters because my split lip stings. “You used Danika to get over me?”
“I think I did. We used each other—me to get the structured life I pictured for myself, and she used me for power and status. Though it didn’t work.”
“What didn’t work?”
“I obviously couldn’t get over you.” His rough words are spoken low, so low that I can barely hear them. “I even kept this on me at all times.”
He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the bullet key chain I saw him carrying but he didn’t want to elaborate on.
“It’s the bullet I removed from you in the cave.” His voice is still faint. Bashful, even.
“You kept it all these years?” My own voice is choking.
“Yeah. I couldn’t throw it away. I couldn’t forget that time.” He pauses, his tone a bit shaky. “I tried to find out how you were doing over the years by making secret social media accounts to see what you’d post. Honestly, the signs were always there.”