Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“That doesn’t make it better,” Chase snaps.
“No, but it means you are exactly what I thought you were, Chase Harper. Loyal, to your damn core.”
This is…all too much. It’s so much.
Groundbreaking yet heartbreaking at the same time.
I stand there, staring at the floor, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. I can barely breathe. My chest is tight, my head spinning, and I feel like I’m about to crash under the knowledge of it all. The weight pressing down on me.
I wish my dad were here. He’d know what to say. He always did.
“Paige.” Chase’s voice breaks through the fog in my head, soft and full of regret. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I know you are.”
The air between us is thick, filled with everything we’re both carrying. He did this for me, sacrificed for me. I know that. I see that.
So am I still even allowed to feel hurt? Is that even fair and to whom?
It’s too much all at once.
“What you did…all of this…” I pause, trying to steady my breathing. I shake my head, unsure of what to say next. “It’s just…a lot. This place. All of it.” My eyes move over the studio, and I’m still in wonder at the transformation but also filled with confusion.
He watches me, his eyes full of pain, like he’s waiting for me to break the last little bit of him that’s still holding on.
“Thank you,” I murmur, voice thick, the words tumbling out before I even fully realize what I’m saying. “For all of it.”
His nostrils flare and his chest rises, a silent struggle playing across his face. His lips twist, like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.
I take another step away, shaking my head slowly, my own heart aching. “I need to… I need to go. Yeah.”
He nods, his face crumpling with that familiar sadness I hate to see.
I turn away, and my eyes instantly lock with my grandpa’s. I wince at the sight of him, freezing where I stand.
He opens his mouth, but I shake my head.
“No,” I mutter under my breath. “Not right now. I…” I shake my head again.
I need air, I need to breathe, I need to get away.
And so I walk out the door.
Chase
I watch her go, her back disappearing through the door, her footsteps echoing in my mind, the distance between us stretching farther with every passing second. The sound of the door closing behind her is like the death knell in my chest. She just got back and she’s already gone.
I want to call her. To run after her. To fall to my knees and beg her to stay. To tell her how sorry I am, how much I’d give to go back in time and tell her the truth, show her how much I love her, how much I’ve always loved her.
But I stand frozen, my heart a pile of broken glass under my ribs, cutting me from the inside out.
The sound of a throat clearing pulls me back to reality. My eyes snap up, and I find myself face-to-face with her grandpa, not that he deserves the title.
He’s standing there, his gaze heavy, studying me, trying to read and understand my next move, but I don’t give him the time, stepping forward with a low growl that barely reaches my ears.
“Are you going to cause more problems?” I demand. “Because I will tell you right now, I won’t let you keep her from me. It should be clear by now that I had no intention of giving you what you wanted. I was never walking away and that isn’t going to change, so if you are going to try and force it by bringing the law into this, not that I think you have a leg to stand on if you do, be a man and tell me now.” The words hang in the air between us, thick and suffocating.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to say what will change everything, that will tell me how far I’ve truly fallen. Explain some legal binding he has me in without my knowledge.
His eyes shift, and I see it then. The change in his expression, the hard exterior leaving nothing but the weary eyes of an old man, lonely and tired.
“No, son,” he says quietly, his voice softer than ever before. “Never.”
That breaks me. I want to fall to the floor right then and there, but I don’t. I stare at him, heart still racing, body too stiff to move.
“Then, respectfully, leave.” My voice is firm—more final than I feel.
He opens his mouth like he’s going to protest.
“No,” I say before he can start, the anger seeping in with each word now. “I know what I did, I know what I have to make up for, and I’ll die trying if it comes to that. But what I don’t have to do is pretend that I can stomach the sight of you right now.”