Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“I did tell them that I’m at a loss, just like they are. And the rest of the visit was marginally better. It’s just so strained.”
“I know you don’t expect things to be what they were or have it happen all at once,” I say gently.
“No. I’m just a stranger. We don’t even have anyone in our family to cause huge disturbances or be that outgoing, wild character. No crazy granny with wild dresses and hats to relieve the tension. No badass aunt or eccentric uncle. It’s just me, the one no one knows how to deal with. The one they wish would probably just stay gone.”
I shake my head, surging forward onto my knees in front of him and taking his hands. “That’s not true!”
He sighs shakily. “You’re probably right. Intrusive thoughts aren’t facts. Everyone was nothing but nice, but that’s the problem. Their niceness just feels so…strained and tense. Unnatural. I’ve been gone for well over fifteen years. No one is going to be the way they were when I left, just like I’m not. It just feels like when they say they’re open to me coming back, and they want to get to know me again, they’re just being nice.”
“Nice sucks. Mean is even worse, but nice is sometimes harder to bear when it comes from the people you love.”
Thorn inhales sharply, and his eyes widen. “Oh my god. You’re on the floor on your bare knees. Please, get up.”
His hands circle my waist, and he lifts me onto his lap. I arrange my knees to the side. “I never met anyone I meshed with other than my neighbor, Mary Beth. All my life. Of all the people I know. I sometimes wondered if I was broken. It’s really hurtful to have to feel like that. It’ll come. If you give it time, I know it will. They’re your family. They love you.”
“Yes.” At least there’s no hint of doubt.
“I didn’t meet anyone I thought I could mesh with until you.” I grasp his massive shoulders. “Maybe that’s the scariest part of all. I never wanted to be one of those people who had to keep running, scared. I really want to subscribe to the it’s better to love theory. I still have a lot of doubts, but when have I not doubted? Every time I made a video of Peach Lips, I second-guessed myself. Every time I posted. Later, every show and just about every interaction. Was this the right path for us? For her? Was she happy? There was every indication that she was—most days, she still got bus zoomies at two in the morning and liked to relentlessly mess with my blinds. Peach catnip was still her favorite by far. She was always herself, no matter what. Beautiful and magical. I was so happy with all the ways we could help.”
“And then I ruined it all. I’m your villain origin story.”
I bite down on a laugh because he’s freaking serious.
“No.” I smooth the pad of my thumb over his bottom lip. “I didn’t feel like I’d truly made the right decision until my first day of college. I’m not giving up what I’m doing. I’m still going to make videos and interact with all Peach Lips’ fans. The haters can hate, but there are far more lovers out there. I have no doubt that we’ll rebuild. This is the right place and the right time. I truly do believe that.”
“For you and Peach Lips.”
“Yes. But also for us,” I say.
“I never saw myself falling in love or having my own family.”
“I never did either.” I grew up in an unconventional family, and for me, I never had the same dream others had.
But with Thorn? I can see it. I can picture him being a wonderful father. More than wonderful. The best.
“I want you to know that in all the things I did, I was far more of a guard. I can’t tell you much of anything, but the situations we were in, what we were fighting…it was just. All those men were firmly in the category of men who were making the world a dangerous and horrible place. But I never had to kill anyone. The worst I ever had to do was shoot a man in the foot, and even though he was a horrible human being, I’m still tortured about it. I saw things, yes, and maybe the fact that I was there seeing it was wrong enough. I’m guilty by association. When you sign up to be a soldier, you have to realize there are going to be situations, always, where that’s true. I’ve spent years working through that with therapists, but I wanted to tell you.”
All those times that I doubted him and asked him about his body counts like an arsehole. Yes, it matters. But did I have any right to ask something like that?