Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Chloe?” he asks, searching me. Prompting me. Begging me to return his words to him.
“Jason, listen, I’m sorry. I just … I’m struggling over here to get the words to come out.” I’m talking too fast, too panicky. But I can’t slow down. “Let’s go home. I—”
He takes a step back, anger flashing in his eyes. “Go on home. I need to catch a flight.”
“Jason, wait.”
He takes a deep breath, the wall I used to see around him all the time—but haven’t witnessed since we got married—comes back up.
“We’ll talk at home,” he says. “But, right now, I have to take care of this other bullshit because, if I don’t, there will be hell to pay for us all.”
Tears streak down my cheeks at the pain in his face that I caused. Even if I tell him I love him now, he won’t believe me. He won’t understand. He’ll think I’m saying it to make things okay.
I press a kiss to his lips and then back away. “Come home to me. Go take care of this, and then come home to your wife. I have a lot of things I want to tell you.”
That I love you … and that I think I want to keep you forever. And that one day I want to be the mother of your children.
I need time to process that, anyway. Maybe a day apart will do us both some good.
“I’ll let you know how it goes,” he says, nodding at me.
Then he turns and walks away.
Chapter 26
Jason
My socks are damp.
I shake my head at the random thought. Overstimulation causes the mind to focus on the oddest things. But damp socks? That’s a new one.
It’s been pouring since I left Tennessee. The day turned bleaker the farther south I flew, as if in warning that the day would only get worse. I’m taking my chances. After my interaction with Chloe after I told her I love her, I’m not sure how much worse it can get.
I take a seat in the third booth as the guard beside the door instructed me when I came in. The room’s clean, yet I don’t want to touch anything. The smell burns my nostrils. It’s not so much the scent itself that’s horrible, but more the lack of anything familiar.
I immediately think of Chloe and how she sniffs every bottle of cologne in my bathroom. She leaves her favorites in the front of the shelf, so I’ll choose them over the ones she doesn’t favor. If it meant making her happy, I’d toss every one she doesn’t love.
But that might mean tossing myself out, too.
My chest pulls tight, and I force my wife out of my head. I must focus on the task at hand. I get one try to get this right. I’ll figure out Chloe when I’m done.
A door squeals, and then I see him. Dad shuffles into the room.
His hair is whiter than I remember, and he’s much thinner than before. He looks small in the drab-colored jumpsuit as he lifts his eyes to mine.
My hands flex at my sides as I search for humanity in his face—anything to quell this overwhelming need to make him pay for his crimes.
He sits across from me, groaning as he collapses into the chair. On the other side of the plastic wall, he looks like a little old man.
“You look like shit,” I say.
Dad nods, sitting up straight. “You look good, Jason.”
“Cut to the chase. You didn’t ask me to come all this way to tell me I look good.”
He sighs. “Can we take this easy?”
“No, motherfucker, we can’t.”
My tone is sharp and pointed. I want him to know I’m angry and to understand the pain he’s caused us all. Not that I think he’ll care, but just in case.
“Why am I here?” I ask, resting my elbows on the cool metal table in front of me.
Dad just stares at me, unblinking.
“Okay, fine. I’ll say what I need to say, and then I’ll go.” I hold his gaze and refuse to let go. “I didn’t come here for you. I didn’t come here to make you feel better, or to give you closure, or to hear your excuses. And you better believe that I didn’t come here because you refused to cooperate until you got your way.”
“Then why did you come?”
My heart leaps in my throat, my emotions for Chloe clouding my brain. She’s why I came.
I think about her smile and sweet laugh. The memory of her with Arlo is seared into my mind. I remember the way she slurps her iced tea and the taste of her terrible lasagna, which I don’t have the heart to tell her was basically inedible. More than anything, I think about all the memories we have yet to make.
My anger doesn’t fade, but it does begin to twist into something else. Seeing my father on the other side of the prison wall doesn’t make up for what he’s done—not by a long shot—but it does feel … complete. It’s as if the energy I’ve wasted on this man is now freed. Like I can put it all to bed and move on.