Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
I shouldn’t have said that to her boss.
“I’m not here to impress anyone or even fit in. I’m just a woman living in a small house with an average job. No one cares about my accolades and credentials. No one cares if I have a father. I don’t have to make sense to anyone. Here, I’m average. Normal. And every day since I’ve been here, I’ve thought about my dead father. I’ve considered the possibility that there was nothing extraordinary about him. I’ve spent time thinking about dollar store kites and the fact that I’ve never been to India. All the expectations that have been put on me were mine and mine alone. I don’t want to numb the pain of healing. I want to go through it. And I will come to accept everything that has happened in my life. It just won’t happen overnight. And it won’t happen if I feel the pressure to perform as the brilliant psychiatrist, the perfect daughter, the sexy girlfriend.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, trying not to laugh at her slipping in “sexy girlfriend” like it’s been a draining task.
We stare at each other, but I don’t know what to say, and maybe she doesn’t either.
“My dad died.” I don’t know why I feel the need to state the obvious to the person who was with him when he died. Maybe it’s the truest thing in my life. An undeniable fact in a sea of ever-changing emotions.
When her only reaction is the tiny line forming between her eyebrows, I shrug. “Your dad died too.” Watch out, world. Dr. William Landry has invented a new form of therapy. It’s called The Blunt Truth. Instead of “fake it till you make it,” this is “say it till you accept it.”
“I need space,” she says.
I take a step back, standing outside the kitchen.
“Stop.” She fights to keep a straight face.
“More space?” I take another step backward. “This is as far as I can go. I gave you space for eleven years. I don’t think you need space. I think you need the one thing you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember.”
She parks a hand on her hip. “What’s that?”
“Me.”
When she doesn’t give me a response, not even a blink, I shrug. “Don’t pass this up. I’m like Halley’s Comet: If you miss me this time around, I might not show up for another seventy-five years.”
“When you’re a hundred and fifteen?”
“A silver fox,” I say, pulling my shoulders back.
“A fossil.”
I narrow my eyes.
“Will.” She sighs, lifting her gaze to the ceiling for a breath before closing her eyes. “Go home.” Her voice breaks, and all the lighthearted joking disappears. “I’m a mess.” She opens her eyes and quickly swipes at her tears. “And you can’t change it or fix it.”
This is it? I came here for her, but I’m leaving alone? What can I say to change her mind when I’ve said it all?
“I love you,” I say in another last-ditch effort. Isn’t that what she’s wanted to hear? I’m saying it. I’m here. I’m all in. My jaw clenches as I swallow my own emotions.
“Go home, Will.” She brushes past me.
As I reach for her hand, she pulls it away.
Chapter Forty-Six
Everleigh
After a long shower and a productive cry, I wrap a towel around my head and one around my body. When I open the door, I half expect to see Will, but after poking my head into every room, I discover he’s gone for real this time. What did I expect? I told him to leave, and that was the right choice. He’d impede my recovery.
A distraction.
My weakness.
Still, the young girl who will forever be trapped in my body wanted him to . . . I don’t know. Not give up so easily.
My father gave up. He didn’t stick around to see me. Maybe that’s my fate. A life where men continually disappoint me.
“One day I’ll find my prince,” I say, retrieving a bra and underwear from the dresser. After I put them on, I stand in front of the full-length mirror and comb my hair. “I’ll find a man who’s not afraid of my intelligence. A confident man who knows what I need more than I do. A caveman who solves all of our problems with a kiss that knocks me off my feet. And I won’t care that I grew up without a father, because he’ll be the only man I’ll ever need.” I dab my swollen eyelids and frown at my reflection.
I’m a mess.
I toss the comb onto my bed and glance at my phone on the nightstand. No messages from Will. Did I mess up? Is space not what I need? What if he is my Halley’s Comet? Maybe I should chase him.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m done chasing men. Done making up pathetic stories. Done begging for someone to love me.” I grab the pillow he slept on and bring it to my nose. “I hate you, William Landry,” I say.