Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“But it’s not love?”
“I don’t think I’d recognize it even if I felt it.”
“I think you’d know, but you could be going into a marriage with less than that, right? Mom and Dad didn’t even know each other before they got married.”
And now I’m not sure they really loved each other, something that, at Logan’s request, I still haven’t shared with my brother.
“It’s not for myself that I worry,” I explain. “He deserves someone who can give him what he needs. Someone who can love him the way he desires to be loved.”
“There are ways he can get that outside your marriage.”
I charge him, and he pulls away quickly, his eyes wide, assuring me I must be coming at him too intensely. I clench my fists, stopping myself, though I’m unable to quiet my fury.
“Kill!” he shouts, snapping me out of my state. “Okay, I get it. So that’s not as much of a solution as I thought.”
“That’s the problem. If I were a good man, I would have the decency to grant him his freedom. To let him have what he really needs, regardless of these petty feelings that consume me, but I know it would kill me. He’s mine, and I would pity the man or woman who fell in love with him because I wouldn’t just end them, I would destroy them.”
His Adam’s apple shifts as he gulps because I’m sure he understands the level of brutality I’d be willing to inflict upon the fool who dared to touch what’s mine. “Okay, so that’s off the table. Then I guess he is kind of fucked.”
“And only because of me. If I didn’t have this monster in me, I could find a way to make it work. I could be kind. I could give a fuck about someone other than my greedy self.”
Rage’s lip twists up, and he approaches, with caution, which given how many emotions are rushing through me, is a smart idea.
“You’ve been honest with him about how you feel,” he says. “That’s big. And maybe you’ll feel differently in a few years. Once the luster of this new shiny thing wears off.”
I wish I could believe that, but the feelings I have are so powerful, and only intensify with every day we spend together.
“Come on,” he says. “We have a lot to do, and you’ll have plenty of time to regret this wedding later, just like most married couples.”
His playfulness cuts through this unbearable tension. Not quieting it entirely, but giving me enough release to make the pressure tolerable. I push all this noise aside in my head, and we get to work on the many other obligations that must be settled before the ceremony tonight.
I’m heading through the yard with Cheryl, the event coordinator, when I notice someone moving inside the greenhouse. It gives me a shock until I see it’s Logan, pacing. I imagine he went there for the same reason I usually do—privacy.
“Rage, would you mind walking Cheryl through the rest of the property? I want to grab Logan.”
“Sure thing.”
I enter the greenhouse. Logan stands on the opposite side, at the fountain, watching my birds bathing. He’s dressed in his tux, looking as dapper as ever. As if he’s in a daze, he doesn’t seem to hear me enter. It’s only when I’m a few feet away that he whispers, “I knew it was you.”
That probably shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but I can’t help appreciating that he anticipated me coming for him.
“I could smell your cologne and that sexy-as-hell musk, like wood and a hint of whiskey.”
“You know it’s bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the big day.”
He pulls his gaze from the fountain. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not wearing a dress,” he says playfully. As he turns to me, he smirks, but I see the sadness too.
It pains me, physically injures me like a knife carving into my chest. Because just like he knew it was me approaching, I’m certain I know what he’s thinking about, what I can’t push from my mind—this awareness of what he grieves. A life…a love he’ll never know. Because of me.
“You know we have about an hour until the event?” I say, and he nods.
“Yeah. I wanted to visit the other birds you’ve captured.”
Again, it’s a joke, but I hear the weight of what he’s saying. And like when we fucked at the Recourse, I want to bring him relief. “Would you like to meet Willie?” I ask, which makes him wince. I approach the fountain and reach out, making a clicking sound the way I would when I first took him in. The little finch eagerly gets in my hand, poking around. “The greedy bastard’s looking for seeds,” I say, but I don’t want to leave him without any, so I head over to a feeder and grab a few, sprinkling them into my palm.