Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
Be his distraction.
But I’d been too emotionally and physically wrung out too, so I guess I fell asleep and woke up way later than I’d planned. I’d wanted to see him off, wish him luck for the season, maybe also have breakfast together, but he’d already left by the time I opened my eyes. So I sent him a text, apologizing for oversleeping and to tell him good luck. And that was it. That was probably the last time I felt any tender emotion for him.
Right now, all I feel is immense anger.
I’m so fucking angry I could break something. I could break this fucking dish in my hand, the one I’m trying to wash at the sink; I’m still not used to the dishwasher. I could break my phone that’s sitting on the counter, that I keep checking every five minutes to see if I missed a notification. I did not. And rationally, I know that. Because my phone is on loud and I’ve been getting texts and calls all day long. For two whole days, in fact, without any issues.
So it’s not my phone. It’s him.
He’s the problem. My toxic asshole stepbrother. Who hasn’t replied to my texts or picked up my calls. And it’s so unlike him to not reply to me. I mean, he gets back to me the moment I send him something, anything. He gets back to me before I put my phone away after sending him a text, thinking it’d be a while before I’d hear from him.
I also know he’s communicating fine with others. Namely, Snow. So yes, it’s not my phone, it’s him.
I mean, for him to treat me like this. Like I’m some clingy jealous girlfriend type…
Okay, so maybe I am. I do get jealous, and well, I’ve been obsessed with him for years so it’s safe to say I’m clingy. But I also understand that I’m not his girlfriend. I realize this is not a relationship. Or at least a traditional one, where we go on dates and hang out together. First, we can’t because of all the complications. We have to hide and sneak around, which I didn’t want to do in the first place, but it’s fine. I’ll make my peace with it. And second, I know he doesn’t want that anyway. He doesn’t want a traditional relationship. I know that. I know he loves someone else and that he still is in love with her. That’s the whole point of this, right? The whole point has always been that he can’t move on, and he needs me for that.
So I get it.
But that doesn’t mean he gets to make me feel like this. Rejected and ignored. Especially when we’ve been through so much together. Especially when we’ve come so far. Especially when I saw him that night. I saw him crack. I saw the inside of his soul, his heart, and fell in love with him even more. Fell in love with the man who makes life easy for everyone but himself. Who’s so loveable and loyal that I could fall in love with him not only in this lifetime but beyond.
Not to mention, I know there’s no way he’s feeling good about this. In fact, I think he’s probably feeling pretty shitty about ignoring me for whatever goddamn reason he is. I know he’s obsessed with me. I know he’s over the top insane for me. He’s the man who remembered the exact spot I spoke to him for the first time and took me to that very spot to take my virginity.
You know what though, it’s not my problem. It’s not my job to coddle him and make him feel better when he’s the one who’s doing all this. So he can go to hell. In fact, I’m going to block him on my phone. Let’s see how it feels when he’s the one getting ignored. I quickly finish washing the dish and set it on the drying rack. I pick up my phone and bring up his number, and with another click, block him. There. Take that, asshole.
I’m gloating—while also feeling angry and sad and everything else in between—when I hear the front door open. Frowning, I put my phone down on the counter and walk out of the kitchen, wondering if Snow is back. She’s spending the night at Tempest’s—as she has done many times before—because Tempest hates it when Ledger is traveling for the season. And since Snow is still going stir crazy at home, she volunteered to go. But she’d call before coming back so it doesn’t…
I come to a halt when I reach the hallway, because it’s not my sister.
It’s him. The man I’m mad at.
He stands just inside the door, his eyes locked with mine. Dark and flashing. His hair’s the first thing I notice about him, which is a wonder because there’s so much going on with him that deserves my attention. But I start with his hair, all mussed up and falling on his forehead but not in a typical way. His hair looks… agitated. Like he’s been running his fingers through the strands, causing them to fall all over the place.