Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I could hardly think straight, but I grabbed hold of Cohen, who pulled his arms around me, holding me close. “I shouldn’t have fucking said that. I know in my heart that if she’d had a choice, she never would have let anything pry her from this world, but sometimes I just…”
“Brody, you don’t have to explain that to me. We’re in the same boat there. You think I haven’t cursed my mom or dad a time or a thousand growing up? You’re hurt. It’s okay. Just got a lot bottled up in this big body of yours. I have a feeling if Big Momma were here, she’d rightly ‘bless you out’ and then get back to loving you as much as ever.”
I laughed through the tears and pain. “Damn right. Where the fuck did you learn ‘bless you out’?”
“I’ve been around for a minute. Picking up this small-town thing pretty damn well.”
I pulled away, wiping my eyes. “This is what happens when you get some of that sunscreen in your eyes,” I lied.
He glared at me.
“I know she didn’t choose,” I iterated, feeling so ashamed for having let those errant words escape my lips.
“I don’t think for one moment that Big Momma would ever think anything else, but I do think she would want to know why you haven’t been going on these adventures you were talking about.”
I shook my head as regret swelled in my gut. Didn’t I know it? “I put all those pictures away a long time ago. Buried them in the basement. And after all that, my brothers and sister still don’t think I love them. What more could they need?”
“I sure as fuck understand feeling that way. Hell, just being here makes me feel like I’m betraying my adoptive parents for wanting to know about my dad. If I bottled all that up, that’d be a fucking lot to deal with. But don’t you think you can travel and be with your family?”
I quieted as I faced this part of myself I pushed away most days. But clearly, Cohen had already seen me at my most vulnerable, so I didn’t see a reason to hold back. “I don’t like to admit it, not to anyone, but…Cohen, I’m scared.”
He neared, resting his hand against my hip, his soft thumb contrasting with the rough material of the fingerless glove as he massaged my skin. “What are you scared of? You can tell me.”
“All those days when I was at school while she was sick. I should have dropped out of the semester and come back to be with her as much as I could before the end. Each day was a day I lost. Now I know how fast you can lose someone you care about, and I don’t want to be gone and then find out I missed all this time with the only thing that really matters in this world—family. Nothing else means shit. And the fact that they can’t see that—that everything I do is because I want to cherish all the time, what limited time we have on this earth together—makes me feel like they’re the ones turning their backs on me. Don’t they see that I would fucking deprive myself of everything, I would give my last breath, would starve myself so that they could eat?”
“But do you think your family wants to sit there, watching you starve?”
It was a sobering remark, the sort that could only have come from outside my own brain, where I was right and justified in all my fury and pain. As I reflected on the expressions on my siblings’ faces in his kitchen that morning, it made far too much sense. All this time they’d been watching me love them, but with all this pain in my heart still…a self-imposed suffering. “Well, it’s all we’ve got,” I said, unwilling to accept any alternative.
I could tell that wasn’t satisfying for Cohen, and while I appreciated him being there for me, he couldn’t help me with that. Mistake or not, it was my choice to make.
“Big Daddy would be pleased to know you have his stubbornness,” Cohen said. “Come on. We’re not gonna figure out all the O’Ralley problems in a day, so let’s have some fun. Wanna play a game?”
I eyed him curiously. “Game?”
“Yeah, it’s called: I take sexy videos of you swinging that ax…or maul…or whatever the hell, and then we blow up Isaac’s phone with them and get some hits on the O’Ralley social media.”
The way he had the power to diffuse all that tension so quickly filled my chest with a soothing, warm sensation.
We gazed at each other, his smile comforting me in a way I hadn’t expected.
No, I wasn’t going to find all the answers in an afternoon, but something about having a no-good Mitchell there with me made me feel like I didn’t have to.