Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 103754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
As she retreats to the corner to take her seat and rearranges her expression, I’m starting to think I mistook fortitude for a stiff upper lip. My eyes have been opened, and there’s no denying that it’s not only grace I need to give her but also support. She’s just trying to survive as well.
I can’t stay here. The urge to leave is becoming too strong. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible.” His coloring is a lighter tan, his body holding on to a summer fling vacation he took in late August, while my mom is pale from the winter. “What brings you here?” His tone isn’t as harsh as his mood, but it’s not offered in warm fuzzies either. “Run out of money? That guy kick you out? Gregory would never—”
“I don’t care about Gregory. I didn’t run out of money, and nobody’s kicked me out. I came because Mom called to tell me you had a heart attack.”
He shoots her a glare that could stab through stainless steel. “She shouldn’t have.”
“Well, she did, and I’m here because I wanted to come by.”
His efforts to rile me up aren’t working. That’s what happens when I reclaim my own power. “You’re out of the will, Sosie, just in case that makes a difference if you stay or go away.”
I laugh. It’s not so loud that nurses will come running. It’s more for me as I listen to him try so hard to hurt me. I guess not all of us evolve at the same pace. “I don’t need your money.”
“You sure about that?” he derides, wasting his energy to elicit a reaction. He won’t win. Not this time. Not ever again.
“One hundred percent.” I release a sigh, watching him on what could have been his deathbed, spending the time he just got back in such a hateful place.
“It makes no sense that you’re here.”
“I have to agree.” I release the bedrail and take a step back. When I glance at my mom, a look is shared that reveals the pain I overlooked when I saw her. Maybe I never saw the real her at all. Until now.
Crossing the room, I bend down to hug her. It takes a second before she scoots to the edge of the chair to fully embrace me. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers, almost as if she doesn’t want my father to overhear.
I return to the door and grab my suitcase. “Dad?” I’m only given his eyes in my direction. “I hope you have a quick recovery. Goodbye.”
Nothing is exchanged in return, and his silence is preferred to what he could have said next. I thought I felt it when I escaped the house, but as I wheeled my case onto the sidewalk, it wasn’t then, it was now that I knew I was finally free.
My hot boyfriend is waiting for me when I step off the elevator. I run to him with my carry-on dragging behind me, dump it, and jump into his arms.
He kisses me like his life depends on it, my back against the wall, and his hand coddling my ass. When our lips part, I lean my head back to look into his eyes. “That’s a welcome I could come home to every day.”
“I’m hoping you do.” He sets my feet on the ground and retrieves the suitcase before following me inside the apartment.
I left the hospital just before midnight, so it’s been nighttime for hours, but it’s really dark in here. “I know you like to save money by turning out lights, but it’s a little dark in here. Were you sleeping?”
“No. I’ve been waiting for you.” I hear the bolts fasten into place before I’m scooped up into his arms and kissed while being carried into the living room. As soon as we part again, I rest my head on his shoulder. “I’m so tired. Are you ready for bed?”
“Not quite yet.” He turns me so I’m facing the kitchen.
“Uh!” The gasp came fast. I’m a little slower processing the rest of what I’m seeing. “What is that?”
“A cake. Candles. Birthday presents—”
“Balloons.” Carrying me closer, he sets me on the wide countertop.
He caresses my face before he lets me go. “Happy birthday, Sosie.” He kisses my lips with tenderness before he releases me, then says, “You should probably blow out your candles before we set off the alarms.”
He’s whacked for that one, but I still laugh. “I’m not that old.”
“You’re not. I was kidding.” He chuckles, but eyes the candles. That’s when I notice there’s a strain of stress he’s failing to repress.
I cross my legs on the counter and lean forward. Closing my eyes, my head goes blank, so I reopen them again to find his. “Everything I always wished for has already come true.”
Grinning like he relates, he says, “Guess you need to find new dreams to pursue.”