Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
At this, I do notice a slight tightening of his frame. I notice a twitch in his back, especially where his brand is. That fancy R that he burned onto himself. Or maybe I’m just imagining things right now. Whatever it is, I need to keep going. I need to be brave. For myself.
For him.
So I keep talking to his back. “I know you… love someone else. I know that. You don’t talk about her. You don’t talk about Annie but…” I watch his fists clench at his sides then and I swallow thickly. “I know you loved her so much that you tried to kill a man for her. You branded yourself for her, you spent eight years behind bars for her. Even now, you’re ready to burn down the whole world for her. And the old Reverie wouldn’t like that. She’d be afraid of the violence but now I get it. I get why you’re doing this. I try to imagine it sometimes. How you feel. How you felt when you… heard the news, when you realized you were too late and I’m going to be honest with you, it scares me. It scares me so much that I don’t want to imagine it. I don’t want to imagine something happening to the man I love. And maybe it’s selfish but I’m finding out love is selfish too. So I’m asking you, please, please, don’t do it. I’m asking you as a girl in love with you, please don’t put me through the pain that you’ve gone through, that you’re going through.
“Because I know this revenge will kill something inside of you. You’re not this man, Arsen. I know you don’t want to believe me but it’s the truth. I know you. You’re a brother. Whose younger brother looks up to him and whose older brother wants you back for good. You’re a cowboy in love with your land. You wake up with the dawn and work tirelessly on the ranch all day. Then you spend whatever hours you have left working with your horses, trying to break them. You rescue them, rehabilitate them. You care for them. You try to make them feel safe. But most of all, you’re a man capable of love. I know you think you’re like my father but you’re not. My father pushed my mother down the stairs, but you’re ready to destroy your life for the woman you loved. All because you think it’s your fault that she died. It’s not. It’s theirs. You didn’t kill her; you’re trying to avenge her. So please, please don’t do this. Please don’t hurt yourself. You always tell me how I need to be free, don’t you? How I need to live my life. And I will. I’ll leave. I’ll do all those beautiful things. I’ll build my future. But please don’t make me live in a world where you have none. Don’t make me live in a world where you’re suffering and in pain. Please, set yourself free for me. Just live, Arsen. Please.”
My cheeks are drenched with tears. I only realize that when I’m done talking and I taste salt on my lips. I also realize that I’m still naked, and somehow when I’m not talking and being brave, I’m more aware of it. I become even more aware, though, when he finally turns around.
His face a cool, stony mask. His eyes dark but dead.
It’s not as if I thought this would be easy. I’m asking him to give up something he’s been wanting for eight years now. And given how much he loves Annie still, I knew it would be a hard ask. But I had to do it. I have to do this. I’m not going to let him destroy his life for revenge.
I didn’t want it before, and I want it even less now, after seeing that file.
So I have to make him understand. I open my mouth to say something. I don’t know what, though, because I ran out of all my words just now, but he gets there first. “Put some clothes on and get out.”
I fist my hands. “No.”
His jaw clenches. “Don’t make me drag you out of here.”
“Do it,” I dare him.
Only because I know he never will. He’ll lose his mind first before dragging me out of here naked.
As I said, I know him.
And when his chest swells with a breath that seems resigned, I loosen my fingers. But I guess I did it too soon because he begins to walk then, heading to the stairs. I call out his name, but he doesn’t stop. So in my desperation, I say the last thing I wanted to say: “I’ll tell them.”
He stops, again with his back to me, and I can’t help but find this so tragically poetic. That all I can see is the brand he put on himself because of the woman he loved when I’m asking him to do the unthinkable.