Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“I thought I was doing the right thing.” That’s the only explanation I have because despite it sounding like a cop-out, it’s the truth. In my head and heart, I thought I was doing what was best for Braxton and his future.
“You wouldn’t have left.” Traitorous tears fill my eyes, but I quickly blink them away.
Braxton grips my chin, raising my face to look at him, and the look of hurt in his eyes damn near sends me to my knees. I would do anything to make this right, but there’s nothing I can do. The damage has already been done.
“It wasn’t your choice to make.”
“But your choice was because of me.” I palm his hand that’s holding my face. “I couldn’t let you give it all up for me. What if we didn’t work out? What if you regretted it? I know you don’t agree with it, and maybe your dad and I handled it wrong, but I did it because I loved you,” I choke out. “I still love you.” I step closer. “I never stopped loving you.”
He steps back slightly, breaking our connection, then his fingers go back to the ring, stroking it gently. “It could’ve been amazing.” He looks at me, his hazel eyes so intense, it’s as if they’re reaching deep into me and squeezing my soul. “You and me... we could’ve had everything.” He says the words as if they each were once living and are now dead. As if he’s mourning the loss of the idea. “All you had to do was believe in us the way I did. I would’ve done anything for you, for us. All I wanted was forever.”
He drops his hand and walks away, leaving me staring after him, wishing I would’ve made so many different choices. Once I know he’s gone, I drop into the chair and cry. I hate how often I cry, but I can’t help it. It all just hurts so damn badly.
I spend the next several minutes balled up, letting out my emotions, and once I’m all cried out, I wipe my face and head to my room to pack. It’s the least I can do so Braxton isn’t in pain having to see me every day.
After booking a flight home for tomorrow morning, I go down to the bar, needing a drink. I find Gage sitting there, drinking straight from the bottle.
“Mind if I join you?” I ask, sliding onto the seat next to him.
His eyes meet mine, and I notice they’re bloodshot and puffy. Has he been crying?
“Hey.” I place a hand on his forearm. “Are you okay?”
He tilts the bottle back, downing way too much alcohol, and then without looking at me, he says, “It’s been six years... today.”
He doesn’t have to say anything else. There’s only one thing he could be referring to, the only thing that would have him sitting alone in a bar, drinking himself into oblivion, and I feel like shit for not remembering the date.
Since nothing can be said, I don’t bother talking, and instead, I sit next to Gage quietly while he drinks more liquor than can be good for his liver. When he’s finally so wasted that he can barely keep his eyes open, I text Camden and Declan so they can help bring him up to his room.
“I’m worried about him,” I say to them once they’ve delivered Gage to his room. “It’s been six years, and every day, he’s getting worse. Drinking more, smoking more. And we all know he’s doing other shit behind closed doors.”
“I know,” Camden says with a sigh. “I’ve talked to him about going to rehab, but he’s not having it.”
“Well, maybe you need to make him.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Declan says. “We can convince him to go, but once he’s there, he can check himself out. He has to want to go, and he’s not there yet.”
“So you’re just going to pretend he’s fine? For how long?” When the guys don’t say anything, I sigh and walk to the door. “He needs you. You may think you’re being his friend, but you’re only enabling him. And at the rate he’s going, we’ll be burying him right next to Tori.”
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
I wake to the sound of my phone going off on the nightstand. It’s Easton. When I see it’s only five in the morning, I know something is wrong. That’s the only reason he’d be calling me this early.
“Hello.”
“Sorry to wake you. It’s eight in the morning here.”
“It’s okay.”
“We have a problem.”
I should probably tell him that I’m leaving, and my flight is scheduled for this morning, but if it’s about the band, I’ll do everything in my power to help fix whatever I can as long as they’ll let me help.
“A woman posted on social media that she’s pregnant with Braxton’s baby. She hasn’t made any demands, but they never do on social media. They first post to get a feeler out there.”