Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
I don't need to be a rockstar or a supermodel. I just need him to realize that I'm not a little girl who needs to be protected from the big, bad world, either. I might be shy, but I'm a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions.
Right now, I'm not sure he's ever seen me that way.
"Hey," Sarah says, stopping beside my car in the parking lot after Book Club, worry on her face. "Are you okay, Loralei?"
"Fine," I lie, tilting my head down so my hair falls in my face to hide my eyes. Truth is, I'm a liar. I'm not fine. I spent most of Book Club on the verge of tears, just trying to hold it together. Part of me wants to rush right back to the cabin and take back everything I said. The other part is still mad as hell.
Ash doesn't want to choose me. He wants to choose for me.
A miserable sob chokes me.
Sarah gasps, hurrying around the side of the car to pull me into her arms.
"I'm sorry," I choke, fanning my face. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Yeah, you do," she says softly. "You fell in love with him, didn't you?"
I blink, her face blurred by tears. "What?"
"Ash Kilborne," she murmurs, her eyes locked on my face. "I saw you two sneaking away at the library the other day. I didn't realize that's who he was until I spotted him getting into his SUV in the parking lot. He accidentally dropped his sunglasses, and I recognized him. You've been seeing him?"
"I…" I nod miserably. "For the last two weeks."
She hugs me again, empathy written all over her face. "Want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about," I mumble, staring at the stained cement. "I thought we were hiding to protect his privacy. Turns out, we've been hiding because he doesn't think I fit in his world."
Sarah makes a sound in the back of her throat that's part shock, part anger. "He said that to you?"
"Pretty much," I sniff, swiping at my eyes. "He tried to play it off like he thinks I'm too good for his world, but we both what he was really saying, and it wasn't that. And you know what? Maybe he's right," I whisper. "Maybe I don't fit in his world. But it's not like he didn't know that to begin with, you know? It's not like I pretended to be someone else. So why let me fall in love with him if he was just going to keep me in some compartment that is never allowed to touch the rest of his life? Why let himself fall in love with me if he was just going to decide that I couldn't handle who he is?"
"I don't know," Sarah says softly. "Love makes you stupid sometimes."
I snort because she isn't wrong. It turned me into an idiot, didn't it? Even knowing he was going to break my heart, I kept going. I kept letting myself fall. I can stand here and blame him all I want, but at the end of the day, I made my own choices, too. That's not on him. That's on me.
And I hate how much I miss him already. I hate how much I wish I hadn't asked him to go to the gala with me. I hate everything about this.
"This sucks," I whisper, my bottom lip quivering.
"What are you going to do?" Sarah asks, squeezing me in another hug.
It's a good question. And right now, I don't really have an answer. I just know that, no matter how much I love him, I can't be with someone who looks at me and sees someone he has to hide. I can't be with someone who can't love me openly unless it's on his terms.
Maybe I am a boring librarian, but I deserve better than that.
If he isn't willing to give me that…what then?
Chapter Eleven
Ash
Idon't hear from Loralei after Book Club. I don't hear from her on Sunday, either. When I try to call her, my calls go straight to voicemail. When I stop by her place, she doesn't answer the door. And for the first time in my life, I think I know what dying feels like. It's this—it's realizing how fucking wrong you were…while simultaneously realizing that you might already be too late to fix it.
She's right. She's right about everything. I've spent all this trying to convince myself that she didn't belong in my world. I told myself that she deserved better, that my world was too much for her.
The truth is, it was never about her. It was always about me. My world—my life—has been too much for me for a long goddamn time. I feel at peace here because the stress is gone, and the constant need to be somewhere, to be doing something, is no longer a factor. There aren't cameras in my face at every turn. There aren't ninety people wanting ninety different things.