Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
She’s making biscuits on my shoulder as I carry her to the living room, where I sit and hold her in the silence and take a moment to just be with her.
“I miss you.” I can barely choke out the words. “I hate being away from you so much. From now on, I’m taking you with us. If Taylor Swift can travel with her cats, so can I.”
I tug my phone out of my pocket and see that I missed nothing.
No messages from my man.
“I’ve messed up,” I say and pull back so I can scratch her behind the ears. “I don’t know if he still wants me after what happened this morning. Why can’t I just talk to him?”
Shut the fuck up! I don’t fucking care if you’re worried. You’re going to school. Just tell those little assholes to go to hell and get on with your day. You’re not going to stay home.
I swallow hard as more memories flood through me.
Only weaklings worry about the shit you worry about. Jesus, I didn’t realize I gave birth to such a worthless little idiot.
She was really the worst.
If you don’t stop talking about shit that hasn’t even happened, I’m going to smack you across the face. Now get out of here.
And it wasn’t just her. If I voiced concerns to teachers, they brushed me off and told me not to worry.
Then kids would snicker and mock me.
I was taught to shut my mouth since I was a kid. And I know that Xander’s not them, and that he would listen and help me. But I don’t know how to voice what this is. I told him this morning that I’m afraid he’ll forget us, and he brushed it off. I know he didn’t mean for it to sound that way, but he did.
No one understands.
Finally, my stomach growls, and I kiss Cally before setting her down and going in search of food. Xander told Cassie that I’d be here, and she said she’d put a couple of things in the fridge.
First, I fill Cally’s dish, and while she eats her dinner, I find something to pop in the microwave.
It’s snowing outside, coming down hard now, so beef stew sounds good. While that heats up, I walk over to stand at the windows and watch the snow come down behind the house, over the pond.
Xander welcomed me here with open arms. It feels like home. It no longer feels like I’m just staying as a guest. Both this home and the one in Denver are ours.
And I love them.
But have I fucked up so badly that we’re done?
I check my phone again, and decide fuck it.
I bite my lip as I open a text thread with Xander and then watch the snow as I consider what to say.
Me: Everything seems fine here at the house. Cally was excited to see me. I miss you so much don’t dump me because I’m an idiot who can’t express to you how bad my anxiety is right now.
I wrinkle my nose and take out that entire last sentence, leaving only the part about the house and Cally, and hit send.
Xander reads it.
But he doesn’t answer.
Closing my eyes, I pop my phone in my pocket and then pull the stew out of the microwave and take it to the island.
Cally hops up on the stool next to mine and keeps me company while I eat. When I’m finished, she follows me up to the bedroom and waits in the bathroom while I take a shower, and then we stand facing the bed, and I nibble my lower lip.
I don’t want to sleep here without him.
So, after I put on pajamas, Cally and I walk over to the guest room, the one that I originally stayed in, and get cozy in the bed. It’s early, but I didn’t sleep a wink last night and I’m exhausted. My cat curls up with me, purring so loudly I’m surprised they can’t hear her in town, and she lulls me to sleep.
It’s early when I wake up the next morning, but I’m shocked to see that I slept for a solid ten hours. I’m also disappointed to see that my flight is delayed because of the weather.
Shit.
I shoot Xander a text, even though he’s still not speaking to me.
Me: My flight is delayed because of the snow. I’m sorry.
Again, he leaves me on read, and I lie here and stare at the ceiling.
“So, what’s worse? The possibility of Xander forgetting about you if he ever has another brain injury? Or the fact that he might just break up with you when he does remember you?”
My stomach is in knots, but I force myself out of bed, and I pad into our bedroom to get dressed.
Since I have extra time today, I call Xander’s dad. I know that Xander’s been keeping track of Greg every day, but after what happened, we’re all worried about him.