Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“You’re right,” she finally says. “I don’t know what I would have done. But I do know one thing, Brock. I especially wouldn’t have hidden it from you.” The hits just keep coming, but she’s right on that. “I would have never hidden it from you. I would have told you the first chance I got. I would not live with you month after month and not say a fucking word.”
“I will forever regret not having the courage to tell you what I did,” I confess, my heart soaring with pain. “It killed me.” If only she knew, if only she fucking knew how much I hated myself. If only she knew the destruction I did to myself. If only she knew I was dead inside and the only piece alive was what Saige had.
“I guess two more people died that night,” she states what I’ve been thinking all along. That night I may not have flatlined, but that was the day I died. I swallow down the lump in my throat before finally turning around and leaving. Nothing else needs to be said. Nothing I can say will make anything I did right.
I walk through the darkened woods, feeling as if someone is kicking me in the back with each step. I left home after dinner, not knowing what to do since Saige was supposed to be with me this weekend. But she came running out of school, asking me if she could go with her best friend’s family to their cottage for the weekend. They would be back Sunday afternoon. Even though I didn’t want to lose any time with her, I knew she would have a good time, so I let her. Never knowing what the night would hold in store for me.
My head spins, and I feel like I’m in a daze when I finally walk up the steps to my house. I open the door and head straight to the cabinet on top of the fridge. The cabinet where I put the bottle of whiskey I rarely touch, but after what just happened, I need to be numb. I unscrew the gold cap and bring the bottle to my lips, taking three gulps before putting it down and letting my head hang. Her words come at me so fast and so hard. The vision of her sobbing in front of me makes me lift the bottle again to my lips. Hoping not to see it anymore. Hoping I can erase it from my mind. Hoping I can drink until I’m numb enough that it doesn’t hurt.
Sitting on the couch, slouched down, I finish the bottle. My vision goes blurry as the memories come back when I close my eyes, remembering one of the last times I was at that creek. Before I ruined everything.
I leaned down to kiss her naked shoulder as she lay on the blanket on her stomach. I was lying on my side, with my arm draped across her naked back. Another blanket covered her from the waist down. She just finished riding me as we listened to the sounds of crickets filling the night, as we listened to the sound of the creek trickling down. “I love you,” I said as she tucked her arms under her. She turned her head toward me to smile.
“Yeah?” she returned softly as she turned to face me. She wrapped one arm around me as she placed the other arm on my naked chest, cocking her leg up over my jean-covered hip. “How much do you love me?”
“Baby.” I sighed big and pulled her to me until she was flush with my chest. “Don’t ask me stupid-ass questions.” She laughed softly. “You know exactly how much I love you.”
“But it’s always good to hear.” She kissed the underside of my jaw. “Like I can name some of the reasons I love you.” She leaned back to make sure she was looking into my eyes. “I love that you make me laugh. I love you can come into the room, and with just one look, I feel better. I love that I know with you nothing can hurt me. Nothing will happen to me because I know you’ll take care of me. I love how hot you are.” I laughed at that. “I love how you fight with me just to be able to have make-up sex.”
“Baby,” I said, laughing, “you are the one who starts the fight so we can make up.”
“Not always.” She tried to push away from me, but I tightened my hold on her. “Most of the time, you start it.”
“Why else do you love me?” I asked her.
“I love your heart.” She leaned in to kiss the middle of my chest. “The way you love with everything you are. I love how you support me. I love how you know when I’ve had a bad day, so you make sure to make me smile.”