Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“I didn’t leave.”
“Okay, fine.” I take a pull of my beer. “I guess we can’t discuss this like two mature adults.”
“Why did you ignore me?” Her question shocks the shit out of me and all I can do is stare at her. “That day you came over to the house and you totally fucking ignored me. Didn’t even look at me.”
“You left my bed and didn’t even have the decency to fucking wake me up and say goodbye.” My voice rises. “Hey, last night was good. Even if you didn’t want to continue it”—I stare at her—“you could have at least told me instead of just leaving.”
“I didn’t fucking leave.” She slaps the counter.
“I woke up and you were gone.”
“You thought I left?” she says, shocked that I would come to this conclusion.
“I woke up and you were gone. If that doesn’t scream up and gone, I don’t know what will.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, “not to leave, dumbass. I wanted to make you breakfast in bed and you didn’t have anything in the fridge, so I went out to grab a couple of bagels from your favorite bagel store.” My head rears back as if she hit me. “And then when I got back, you were gone. I thought you went out to work out or something. I stayed there until noon and then left.” Her voice goes soft. “Then I saw you that night and you ignored me, wouldn’t even look my way. I thought you regretted it but didn’t want to tell me.”
“Are you crazy?” I shake my head, admitting to her what I’ve admitted to myself over the years. “It was, hands down, the single best night of my life.”
CHAPTER 17
Elizabeth
THE GREATEST GIFT OF ALL
I sit on the stool in front of him, my body shaking with anger and then more anger. My hands bunch into fists on the cold counter. “Are you crazy?” He shakes his head and then I hear the words I think I’ve waited seven years to hear. “It was, hands down, the single best night of my life.”
I look down at the bottle of beer and close my eyes as I try to calm the racing of my heart. The minute he came down and asked me about that night, I knew this was going to be it. I would be the one who would bare my soul and then he would shatter it, just like he did seven years ago with the silence. I thought for sure I would be the one to throw it in his face, but I was not expecting what he said. “Why didn’t you just talk to me?” The question comes out as a whisper and only when it’s finally out do I look up at him.
“Why didn’t you?” he throws the question back into my court.
“For one”—I place my open palms on the counter and push up—“I was embarrassed.” My voice rises as I continue to talk, “We had just had sex and, let’s be honest, I wasn’t that experienced, and I don’t know—” I throw up my hands because I’ve never placed the blame on myself. I’ve had the what-if conversations, but it usually was what if I hadn’t left. Or what if I never kissed him back. It was never what if I would have forced him to talk to me. “I don’t know,” I say more calmly.
“How would you have felt if you woke up after our night and I wasn’t there?” I swallow down at his question as the back of my neck starts to feel heated.
I move my hand to cup it. “It’s not about what I did, it’s about what you did.”
“God, you are so stubborn,” he hisses at me. “Answer the fucking question, Elizabeth.” His voice is tight. “What would you have done if you woke up and I was gone? You looked around and all of my things, gone.” His eyes bore into mine. “If you had the best night of your life and you got up and looked around, and I was gone.” My chest gets tight as he continues to speak, “You call my name twice, but all that is there is silence.” Breathing is getting harder and harder as he continues, “You sit back down on the bed and wonder, did I dream it? Was it another dream where I finally got to kiss you?” The lump in my throat forms now. “But you can still vaguely smell my cologne…” He trails off. “What would you have done?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, instead he answers for me, “You would have set my house on fire.”
I look up to the ceiling because he is not lying, I would have done that. “But then you show up at my house and you think I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to pull you aside or get you alone so you can talk to me. I thought maybe you were regretting it. So I braced myself for the talk. Braced myself for the words. Braced myself, knowing it would never be the same between us. But instead of all of that, I got silence.”