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)
“What do you need, Sosie?”
When she wanders into the living room, her gaze is vacant as if the woman who was just tugging at the button of my jeans, the one that had her confidence highlighted in the light she carried in her eyes moments prior, is gone. Without warning, she was ripped from her new life and from me, from the happiness she had found on her own and dragged back into the hell of the past with one fucking phone call. Why are they so hell-bent on ruining her life?
The timing sends her into a tailspin. She hates silence, but it’s too loud to ignore as it rushes my ears. She’s too quiet as she searches for something that doesn’t seem to be there.
When I enter the room, she plants her hands on the counter and levels her eyes on me as if finding the horizon to steady herself, and replies, “I need to see him.”
My knee-jerk reaction is to question what she’ll get from this visit other than more heartache. I don’t voice that concern because it won’t help the situation. But standing here, I fist my hands, struggling to cope with how helpless I feel as she processes what this means to her. Yet somehow, I’m supposed to let her find her own way of dealing with it when all I want to do is hold her until it goes away. “What happened?”
“My father had a heart attack.”
Oh shit. Her turmoil is understandable under these circumstances. But is it justified after the pain he’s caused her? I can’t stop from putting myself in her shoes and know I’d see my mom if she were in the hospital. But my mom wasn’t good at the job. Her father used his role in her life to manipulate her into certain outcomes, which excluded me. They’re not the same.
“I’m sorry,” I say about the man who threatened me with harm if I ever contacted his daughter again. That’s the difference between him and me. I’d be fine never seeing him again, but despite what he’s done, he matters to her, so his life matters to me.
“No, I’m sorry,” she says as if she’s betraying me. “I can’t explain it. I just . . .” She drops her gaze to the phone on the counter, her eyes rolling over the message again. They’ve caused her so much damage that I start to wonder if this is a ploy of some sort to bring her back into their fold. “I need your support.”
“You have it. Do what you need to do to bring yourself peace. If that means visiting him, then so be it, but don’t let your guard down.”
“My father is dying,” she snaps.
“That doesn’t erase how he’s hurt you. That ring on your finger was a trade he made—your peace for his gain.” Her head jolts on her neck, the words smacking her in the face. Flames flicker in her eyes before her gaze drops to her finger that carried that diamond. Regret settles into my chest because he’s still her father, no matter what he’s done. But reasoning might not be something we can get to right now. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Then don’t.” Pushing flyaway strands back from her face, she raises her chin just enough for me to see it—resolve has set in. It doesn’t matter what I say, she’s going to see him. She’s just missing the part that I’m not stopping her. But she needs someone to blame, and those misplaced emotions are falling on my shoulders instead of his.
It’s not her reaction that concerns me. It’s the lack of concern for her own safety. So I won’t stop wanting to protect her since she won’t.
She takes her phone from the counter and returns to the bedroom to grab her coat and purse she left on the floor. When she reaches the doorway, she stops to slip her arms into the sleeves and looks back at me. “I know you’re worried, but you don’t need to be. I need you to trust me, Keats.”
“It’s not about trusting you, Sosie. It’s them.” How can she not see that? Going blindly into the lion’s den is never a good idea. “They cut you off, threatened you, morphed you into someone you’re not to expand their own agenda.”
“This isn’t me choosing them over you.”
Fear of losing her punctures the argument, leaving only holes behind. I have every right to worry about what they might do to her. What they do to her affects us. It’s a chain reaction. “Then why does it feel like we’re finally together and they’re tempting you toward the door to the Vitrine you always dreaded? You said it was what you feared most when I met you.” Her lips part and her eyes avert as if she’d forgotten her own worst nightmare. I take a breath and calm my voice. “We’ve been here before, Sosie. What if they try to make that choice for you again?”