Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
I look to the ground, escaping the desperation in her tear-filled eyes. I can’t speak through the bad memories attacking my mind. I can’t look at her. I haven’t planned what I’m going to say. I’m totally unprepared.
“Come in, please,” she says, and I see her feet move back from my dropped vision, opening the way for me.
Walking into this house could finish me off, but thinking of Cami, I step over the threshold and put myself in the closest place I can imagine to hell. The hallway walls are lined with photographs. Endless fucking photographs on both sides, caging me in. I don’t look at any of them. My gaze remains downward, claustrophobia overwhelming me, making every muscle tense.
“Come through,” Abbie says, inching past me in the narrow space. I practically pin myself to the wall to avoid the risk of her accidentally brushing past me, my eyes remaining on my feet as I follow her toward the kitchen at the back of the house.
“Please, sit,” she says, indicating one of the chairs at the table. “Tea?”
I resist asking if she has any Jack and nod instead, lowering to the chair. She busies herself preparing tea, leaving a long fucking awful silence lingering between us.
“How have you been?” She turns with a tray and makes her way over, resting it on the table before taking a seat.
“Alive,” I mutter, short of anything else coming to mind.
“I can see that.” She offers a small smile that no matter how hard I try, I can’t return. “Why are you here, Jake? Why now, after all these years?”
“I’ve met someone.” The confession fires from my mouth without warning, and her face drops as a result. That was so fucking heartless, but I’m in fucking turmoil here. I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to say.
“I guess it was only a matter of time,” she says mindlessly, stirring an empty mug. “Can’t say I blame you.”
“I didn’t plan on it,” I begin, wondering why the fuck I’m explaining myself. I don’t need to justify it, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “It took me by surprise, trust me. I wasn’t looking.”
“So did you just come to tell me that?” she asks, looking up at me. “All this time I’ve been waiting for you to get in touch, to at least let me know you’re alive. Nothing, Jake. I didn’t stop caring about you.”
“I can’t move on with my life with all these regrets hanging around my neck.” I push the words through my clenched teeth, needing some level of understanding from her. “I love this woman. I need to tell her everything there is to know about me. I can’t have a life with her without that. It’d be a lie.”
“Oh.” She laughs sardonically, stripping away any hope I had left of her understanding. “As long as you’re okay. As long as you have peace and you can get on with your life, Jake.”
“I haven’t got on with my life for four years, Abbie!” I yell, slamming my fist down on the table in temper. She jumps, stunned, and I immediately feel terrible for it. Her bottom lip is quivering. My elbows meet the table and my palms hide my face.
Silence falls again, yet my brain is screaming at me, making me want to get my gun from the back of my trousers and blow my brains out. Put myself out of my misery, as well as everyone else affected by this.
“You’re not the only one who hasn’t been able to get on with their life, Jake,” she whispers. “I’ve been raising your daughter on my own.”
Everything inside of me dies a long, painful death, my fingers clawing into my face. “I’m going to make things right,” I vow, so meaning it. Cami has clarified so much for me. I just don’t know where to start and how.
“Daddy?”
The sweet voice has me up from my chair and backing up, trying to escape my reality. I throw a shocked look at Abbie. “You said she wouldn’t be here.” She’d agreed. One step at a time!
I can’t believe she’s done this to me! This is emotional blackmail at its worst. I chance a quick look to the little girl and immediately regret it. She’s the spitting image of her mother. Her mother. The deceiving, manipulating bitch. Abbie rushes over and kneels before the little girl, but she doesn’t get her attention. Her curious eyes are nailed to me, judgment all over her little face. I look away, unable to bear it.
“Charlotte, darling, I told you to stay in your room and play.”
“He looks like my daddy.”
I turn away, facing the wall, my vision blurring from tears that I can no longer hold back.
“Why did you come down? Do you want a drink?”
“No. There’s a lady at the door.”