Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I can almost see what she’s saying. How hard it must’ve been for her as a mother to have a strange, distant, emotionless son. And how good it must’ve felt when he finally began to come out of his shell.
But it was at my expense.
“Is he coming here?” I ask, walking with her through the office to the elevators.
“I told him to give you some time. Would you like me to call him for you?”
I shake my head. “I’ll text him.”
“I can’t tell you what to do. I won’t even ask you to forgive him. But I will say that he’s a better man with you, and he cares about you deeply. More than any human has a right to, but there it is.”
“Thank you for coming.” I give her a tight hug impulsively. She hugs me back, warm and gentle.
“I’m just sorry this is happening to you,” she says, wiping her eyes again. “But I should’ve seen it coming. Cormac really is nuts.”
I laugh, even though it’s not funny. I hug her one more time before she gets on the elevator and disappears down into the lobby.
I stand in the empty reception area alone, thinking back over our conversation. It’s strange how Siobhan managed to shift the way I’ve been thinking about everything. Before, Cormac was just some creepy psycho stalker, but now I see the bigger picture. I can see him through her eyes.
And I know she’s right.
Cormac really does care about me.
I pull out my phone. I’m at my office. Come talk to me. I stare at the text, not sure if I really want this.
It’s not too late to run back home.
If I explained to Adriano what happened, he might even push for a divorce.
I don’t give my brother enough credit sometimes.
All it’ll take is one cab ride and a train ticket.
But when I take a deep breath, I can almost smell my ghost in the air. A memory of him lingering in my heart.
I hit send and walk back to my office to wait.
Chapter 27
Cormac
Her face nearly killed me.
I’ve seen hate. I’ve seen loathing, fear, horror, and worse. I’m a ghostman, a killer, and a monster. I know what others see in me.
But Bianca is my feather. She’s my lightness, my goddess, and my saint.
The pure disgust and terror in her eyes as she ran from my house nearly broke me in half.
That’s why I called my mother. I regretted it the second she picked up, but all the emotions spilled out.
I couldn’t stop them. She’s the only person who really understands. The only person I can talk to about what’s happening.
But she’s the kind of person who always has to get involved.
I stew about what she must’ve said to Bianca on the ride up to the offices. I walk slowly through the empty space, making noise to announce myself as I approach my wife’s closed door. I knock and wait for her to beckon me inside, hoping my mother didn’t overstep. Knowing she absolutely fucking did anyway.
I stare at Bianca, lingering in the doorway. Her eyes are pink-rimmed from crying, but she’s never looked so pure and perfect before. Her pouty lips are pressed in a hard line and she’s doing her best to seem big. Her back’s straight and her shoulders are square. Respect flutters in my chest.
Adoration burns in my core.
This woman can kill me. She can shoot me in the guts and watch me slowly die over agonizing weeks. And I’d still kiss her feet.
“Seven years,” she says quietly. “That’s a long time.”
“I know. It didn’t seem long to me though.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun?” She arches an eyebrow and shakes her head. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t crack jokes.”
“You can say whatever you want, feather.”
“Stop calling me that.” She snaps at me, jaw tightening. But she quickly gets control of herself. “At least until we’re done.”
“Whatever you want. Can I come in?”
“You and your mother are so polite.”
I flinch and look away. “I told her not to come.”
“She did anyway. Okay, get in here, just sit down please. You’re too freaking tall.”
I drift over and lower myself into a chair. Every fiber of my body wants to rush around that desk, grab my wife by the hair, and smother her mouth with my lips. I want to take her, make her understand, make her see.
She’s my everything.
Most men say they’re devoted. They pretend like their wife is the love of their life.
It’s more than that with Bianca.
She’s my blood. She’s my bones. I can’t breathe right when she’s not around. I’d starve for her. I’d drown myself just to make her smile. Every single one of my heartbeats is for her.
“You’ve been breaking into my house for seven years,” she says, folding her hands together in front of her like she’s interviewing me for a job.