Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
My jaw dropped.
“You’re asking me to step aside so you can fuck your ex for an indeterminable amount of time to decide whether you want me or you want her?”
His eyes flashed with anger. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
Was this actually happening? “You want me to wait patiently for you to decide if you love me the most?”
“If you love me and want a future with me, I don’t think it’s unreasonable.”
Oh my … I gaped at this man who I was realizing was either a freaking narcissist or the most entitled wanker who’d ever lived.
The saddest part was that he didn’t even realize he was plummeting me back to the worst thing that had ever happened to me.
My mother finally choosing her addiction over me.
I hadn’t been enough for her. Not enough to fight it.
Will didn’t know about my mum’s addiction, though.
Suddenly, looking at him was like looking at Mum. And I felt the very opposite of safe as the tears spilled over without my control.
“Maia—” His face crumpled, his eyes brightening with tears as he reached for me. “Please don’t cry.”
“Don’t touch me!” I stumbled away from him, wiping furiously at the salt water dripping down my cheeks.
“Maia, please. Just think about what I’m asking. Please.”
How could this be?
How had everything changed in a matter of minutes?
The terrified wee girl in me wanted to plead with him to take it back, to pick me. Pick me! I wanted to scream.
The words sent me spiraling back in time to a day I’d like to forget. It knocked my breath out of my chest.
I’d begged someone who was supposed to love me once before. And when she laughed in my face, I’d promised myself, never again. Instead, I’d finally battled my sense of self-worth long enough to be brave enough to go find my dad. It was the best decision I ever made.
So, I shoved down my fears and panic and held tight to my pride. “Do you honestly think I’m going to wait around for you to decide that I’m worthy of your love?”
Will shook his head. “That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Aye, it is.” I reached down to grab my bag from the couch. Then I slipped off the engagement ring and placed it on the kitchen peninsula. I’d never really liked the ring anyway. It was too big and in your face. “Have a nice life with Birgitta.”
I turned to go, and Will grabbed my biceps, spinning me back to him. His guilty expression was now harsh with desperation. “No. Stay and talk to me about this.”
I calmly but firmly yanked my arm out of his hold. “There’s nothing left to talk about. The minute you asked me to wait for you to decide if you loved me best was the minute you lost me.”
“Damn your pride, Maia.” Will searched my face, a frantic panic in his eyes that didn’t make sense. If he loved me … why?
I took him in. His dark blond hair was always styled to perfection. The hard physique beneath his crisp shirt and expensive suit trousers. While I swam three times a week, Will hit the gym every morning before work. He ate clean. Didn’t drink. Didn’t smoke. He had a boyishly handsome face. The most beautiful blue eyes framed by thick dark lashes. Three years of memories tightened like a vise around my chest. Three years of kisses and hugs and sweet words whispered in my ear. Him introducing me to people with this glowing look of pride.
But beneath his supposed love for me, he’d been holding on to Birgitta all this time. And he wanted me to wait around until he’d decided which one of us he loved the most. I wondered whether Birgitta had agreed to such uncertainty.
Well, I wasn’t Birgitta.
I had more fucking pride than that. “You’re not some prize to be won, Will. I used to think so. Until this moment. But you don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. If you loved me, you wouldn’t even think about asking this of me.” I shook my head in disgust. At him. At me. At three years wasted. “You don’t love me. You just like the way I look on your arm.”
“Damn you for saying that,” he bit out.
“Damn me? What else am I supposed to think? ‘You make this hard walking in looking like that.’ Clearly, this”—I gestured to my face and body—“was the only thing about me you actually loved.”
“Maybe because that’s all you give me. You for damn sure never give me you. You never talk about your mother, about your past or about anything real. It’s all about appearances. Your career is all about appearances too, for Christ’s sake. Why do you think I even started turning to Birgitta in the first place? She has depth. She’s more than a pretty face. She doesn’t spend hours in the bathroom looking at herself in the mirror or deciding what dress will look best on a tiny percentage of the female population. Birgitta does clinical research that helps people. She’s smart and driven and more than her face. Did you ever think your vanity is the reason I even considered Birgitta again?”