Total pages in book: 238
Estimated words: 231781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1159(@200wpm)___ 927(@250wpm)___ 773(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 231781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1159(@200wpm)___ 927(@250wpm)___ 773(@300wpm)
Except for the eyes. In her eyes, she still looked sixteen and secretly planning to steal the old man’s car for a joy ride with her friends.
“Do you have a boy here?” she asked.
I stilled. “No, Grand-Mère.”
“Menteuse,” she retorted, calling me a liar in French. “Qui c’est?”
“Who’s who?”
She jerked her chin behind me, and I whipped around to see Will standing in the doorway.
Dammit. I told him to leave.
But he just walked in, smiling gently. “Allô,” he said. “Je m’appelle Guillaume.”
I gaped at him, hearing French spew out of his mouth like it was nothing. Guillaume was the French variant of William.
Seriously?
Frankly, I’d been surprised he even spoke English. Figured him for someone who communicated solely in emojis.
But my grandmother smiled. “Parlez-vous français?”
“Un peu,” he said, measuring about half an inch with his fingers. “Très, très peu.”
She laughed, and that same smile that made him look like he was built for hugs spread across his face.
He looked down at her, and I rolled my eyes.
Un peu, my ass.
My grandmother had been born here, but her parents came from Rouen in France. They fled in the thirties under the growing threat from Germany, and even though she’d grown up speaking English at school here, her parents made sure to preserve her heritage.
In turn, she raised my mother to speak French, as well. I didn’t speak it as well as I’d like, but I understood it.
More French poured out of Will’s mouth as he talked with her, and I listened.
“I hope we didn’t wake you.” He looked thoughtful. “Your granddaughter was giving me the verbal beating I deserved. I apologize.”
My heart pitter-pattered a little, but then my grandma laughed.
“Perhaps deserved,” she said. “And perhaps she has my short temper.”
I leveled her a look.
Settling back down into her bed, she took her mask off the hook, holding it. “It was a long time before I met someone who could take me,” she explained. “That’s the thing about broken people, Guillaume. If we ever give you our heart, then you know that you deserve it.”
Tears welled in me, but only for a moment.
“He was patient with me,” she told him, a far-off look in her eyes.
My grandfather.
Long since passed, but they were well and truly in love. At least she was happy for a while.
“Now go,” she told us, starting to put on her mask. “I’m tired.”
Like hell she was. We could watch a movie or something.
“Grand-Mère…”
But she shouted, “Go! Be young!”
I wanted to laugh, telling her that I was forty-three at this point and just over it, but it would make her happy if she knew I was happy, so…
She put her mask on, and we left the room, me leading the way back to mine.
Once inside, I closed the door and watched Will set a candle on my windowsill. It was the one that sat on my grandmother’s dresser. He must’ve swiped it.
He pulled out a lighter from his jeans and lit it, positioning it center as the small glow came to life, burning against the black night.
He turned, the light of the flame flickering in his eyes as he looked over at me.
“No movies tonight then?” he asked, walking around my room.
I shook my head, not meeting his eyes.
“And I think,” he continued, moving toward me, “even if you could leave, you wouldn’t anyway.”
Taking a step, I moved away from him, both of us circling each other.
Again, I shook my head.
“Because you’re suspicious of everything good,” he told me.
I remained silent, continuing to move away as he moved in.
“And it won’t end when you go to college or leave this town, Em. Nothing will change. You still won’t have good things.”
I tried to swallow through the lump in my throat, but I couldn’t.
“Because you’ll still be you,” he said.
I breathed in and out a few times, and then the words spilled out before I could stop them. “I want to let this happen,” I told him, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. “Part of me really does, Will. You know why?”
He stared, and I barely noticed that we’d both stopped moving.
“Because as soon as it was over, I know I’d never have to hear from you again.”
I didn’t blink as I held his eyes, his beautiful greens sharpening and his spine straightening.
Yes, fucking you would be the one way to get rid of you. It was almost tempting.
But then I watched his lips tighten as his eyes glistened.
He fell silent, looking taken aback, and I faltered, watching my words work their way through his head, slicing a bloody path that I immediately regretted.
He dropped his eyes, stuck the lighter into his pocket, and let out a resolved breath. “Why are you so mean?”
But he didn’t really want an answer. Turning away, he left my bedroom and headed down the stairs, and in that moment, my insides crumbled, because I knew I’d gone too far.