Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Jesus.
I shake my head.
“I need you to be calm for what I’m about to tell you...”
His eyes narrow and he looks somewhat confused. “Don’t like it when you start a sentence with that...”
“Well, I couldn’t really think of another way to do it. I came here today to talk about what the future holds for us, and when I saw those toys in the corner, I knew that I couldn’t leave. Well, not just that I couldn’t, but that I didn’t want to...”
Something in his eyes makes my heart break. Like this wave of relief from a pain he didn’t even realize he had been holding so long. It makes what I’m about to say next hurt even more, but I need him to know I’m all in.
“You’re stayin’?”
His voice is rough, edgy, full of an emotion I haven’t heard in a while.
“Yes, but not without condition. I want to try and fix this, Travis, but I also want to get your daughter back in your life. Not just for you, but for her. To do that, things can’t keep going the way they are.”
His eyes move to the room I just walked out of, and back to me, as if he already knows what I’m going to say.
“I found your stash.”
He flinches, just a touch.
I just blurt the next sentence. “I flushed it. All of it.”
He takes a step towards me, then another, but stops a foot away. His hands open and close, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “Why would you do that? I—Jesus, Violet, I need those, you don’t understand—”
“Stop,” I say. “I understand perfectly. I also know it isn’t easy and I don’t pretend to know what the road ahead looks like. But, if you want me here, if you ever want Amber back in your life, you have to stop.”
He shakes his head, mouth open, the beginnings of a bitter laugh. “It’s not that simple.”
“It is. You either want this, or you don’t. I’m not doing this with you again. If you think I came back here to watch you kill yourself day by day, then you don't know me at all.”
His anger rises, I can see it flooding in, cheeks red, a flush up his neck. But he redirects, turns, gripping the edge of the counter. “You don’t get it,” he snaps. “I can’t even get through a fuckin’ show anymore unless I—unless I numb it a little. I’ll quit, I swear. Just let me get through the last few shows of the season. Please.”
“No.” I’m not even shaking. It’s like the years of heartbreak have turned my nerve endings to steel. “You quit now. Or I’m gone. And you’ll never see Amber again, but you already know that. I know you want that baby girl in your life, Travis. I know you want me to stay. So you have to make a decision, and you have to make it now.”
He clenches his eyes shut, and it hurts me to see him like this, because I know it isn’t easy. “You don't know what you're asking me.”
“Yeah,” I say softly, “I do. I’m asking you not to die. I’m asking you to choose us. I’m asking you to fix what was broken and give us one more chance at making this something.”
He’s quiet.
The only sound is the buzz of the refrigerator and the washing machine humming in the laundry.
“Goddammit.” He says it soft, like the very word terrifies him. “Okay. But I don’t think you understand just how ugly things are about to get.”
I step closer, putting my hand on his back, feeling the muscles bunch. “I made a choice, and I’m not going to leave you just because it gets tough if you promise me that we’re in this together this time, for real. No more lies, no more secrets, and no more pain. Just us. You, me, and Amber.”
He stands there for a long time, watching me, his face twisting with a mix of love and fear. “You gotta promise me something, Mischief?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t leave me again.”
“I won’t,” I whisper.
And I mean it this time, I do.
Because we’re in this for the final time. How it ends will depend on him, but I intend to keep my end of the deal.
Travis
It fucking hurts.
Every single inch of my body, every muscle, my skin, every fucking strand of hair hurts. It’s like every nerve is on fire. I’m hot and I’m cold, the blankets on my skin are a nightmare, but without them, the fan makes me want to fucking puke. My brain feels spiked with wire, my mouth fuzzy and dry. My whole life is condensed into a single, excruciating moment where I can’t decide if I want to vomit, scream, or die. I can’t sleep, and I can’t stay awake either. I just keep drifting in and out. Every time I blink, I lose an hour and every time I jerk awake, that fucking light peeking through the blinds stabs me right in the eyes.