Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“I told you why.” I feel my jaw tighten.
“You did. You said this was where you were happy.”
“Gramp—”
“No,” he cuts me off, taking a hold of my chin, locking his eyes with mine. “We were happy. You and I were happy.”
“And then we weren’t,” I grit out, and his gaze drops for a moment and his hand moves from my chin to the back of his neck, squeezing.
“You’re right. At the end, we weren’t happy. We were heartbroken over Samuel, and neither of us knew how to process that grief,” he says to his lap, then lifts his eyes to meet mine once more. “But we didn’t hate each other. Didn’t end things ugly. There was a lot of pain between us, but there was also a lot of love.”
“You…” I close my eyes, needing to get my thoughts in order, which seems impossible to do when he’s sitting in front of me, saying what he’s saying. “You moved on,” I repeat, feeling my heart break all over again. I loved him. I loved him, and he moved on.
“I didn’t.”
“You got someone else pregnant and married them. You moved on,” I say louder, and he shakes his head and looks away for a moment.
“I did, and I’m sorry to say this, ’cause I know it’ll burn, but I don’t regret what happened between Tina and me, and I never will regret it, because I got two amazing kids who I love with everything in me out of what happened between us. That doesn’t mean I don’t regret losing you.”
“That was supposed to be us!” I yell, balling my hands into fists, wishing I had kept those words locked away. Wishing I didn’t just cut myself wide open in front of him, exposing everything I’ve kept protected for so long. “That was supposed to be us,” I repeat softly, moving my eyes from him to look at the trees beyond us.
“Could you ever regret having Hunter?” he asks gently, and my body stills as my eyes fly to his.
“Never.” I clench my jaw.
“I know you couldn’t. There’s no way you could. So how can you expect me to regret Aubrey and Steven?” Swallowing, I squeeze my eyes closed. He’s right. I know he’s right. I know that if I didn’t leave, I wouldn’t have Hunter, and he probably wouldn’t have Aubrey or Steven, and I would never want him to regret them. “I know you don’t want me to regret them, and I know you don’t want to believe me, but not going after you is my biggest regret.”
“Stop.” I try to move away from him, but he stands and puts his hands on either side of me, forcing me to stay put. “It’s the truth. Every day since you left, I’ve lived with the knowledge that I didn’t fight for us, that I didn’t try to find a way to make you want to stay, that I didn’t go to you and make you come home.”
“Who knows what would have happened to us if I stayed, or if I came back?” I whisper, then feel his hand slide over mine and down my ring finger.
“You’re right. We’ll never know what would have happened, but you need to know I didn’t just move on. I didn’t just stop loving you,” he says quietly, as his hand slides up my arm and around the back of my neck. His lips touch mine softly, so very softly that I’m almost not sure it happened before they’re gone and he’s standing a few feet away. “I’m gonna leave through the front. Lock the door when you go in.”
Then he disappears into my room, sliding the door closed behind him. I don’t know how long I sit out there, thinking about everything he said after he leaves, but by the time I go in, a million stars are littering the darkness above me.
Aubrey
“Steven,” I call into my brother’s dark room, after shutting the door behind me. “Steven.” I move closer to his bed then trip over something and almost fall on my face, catching myself at the last second before I hit the ground.
“What the hell are you doing in here, Bre? Get out,” Steven gripes, and I roll my eyes then feel around for the lamp I know is next to his bed and turn it on. “What the fuck?” he shouts, and I jump on him, covering his mouth while looking at the door.
“Don’t wake up Dad.”
“Get off me,” he growls from under my hand, trying to push me away, but I hold on tighter, as tight as I can, but he’s always been stronger than me, so it takes a lot of strength to keep my hold.
“I have to tell you something!” I cry, when he dislodges my hand and shoves me away.