Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Then, before I could do anything like get on my knees and beg him to fight for us, I turned and walked away. It was only then that I realized I had nowhere to go. That was supposed to be my home.
And Beau had just set a bomb to it.
thirty
HANNAH
I couldn’t stay in that house. I’d survived it when Beau was borderline intolerable. When he was cruel. Dismissive. I’d survived it with tension constantly simmering between us, unable to act on it.
But I hadn’t merely survived once we finally gave in. I’d thrived. I’d lived a kind of life that I hadn’t thought I’d ever experience. I’d tentatively believed I was part of a family. At first, I’d pushed those thoughts away, careful to protect myself.
But it had been impossible to live as we had with my shields up. Beau tore them down. Clara tore them down.
And it obliterated my soul, now that it was being taken away.
Robotically, I packed my bags. Beau didn’t come into the room. His room. Which was what it was now. Not mine. It had never been mine. That had been a dream. A fool’s hope.
It was a weird irony that I had more baggage leaving this place than I did when I arrived.
I had to use canvas grocery bags to shove my extra clothes in—bought with Lori and given to me by Calliope. Gifts from Clara. All of it was more than I could ask for, and I refused to let Beau ruin it.
Living there, meeting the people in Jupiter had made my life so much fuller. There would be a big, yawning hole in my chest forever once I left. Yet I had to leave. Plugging that hole was a task for later. Right then, I was focused on placing one foot in front of the other.
Arms full of bags, boots on, I walked down the hall. There was no choice but to go through the living room.
And Beau was still there, standing exactly where I’d left him, as if he were unable to move. His head was hanging down, looking at the rug, his hand at the back of his neck. He looked like a ruined man. Broken.
I felt nothing, seeing him like that. Or so I told myself.
His head snapped up on my approach, his eyes narrowing as he saw me with bags.
“You’re l-leaving now?” he stuttered, as if he’d expected me to stay. “You’re not going to say goodbye to Clara?” Accusation filled his tone.
My blood boiled. “No.” I wished the single word could’ve been fashioned into a weapon. Suddenly so angry, I wanted to use that word to bludgeon Beau.
But not really.
Because even then, as I bled internally from the emotional wounds he’d inflicted, I could not stomach causing Beau pain.
“No. I’m not going to say goodbye to Clara because I’m not leaving Clara.” I forced my eyes to meet Beau’s. I would not be downtrodden, pathetic, weak. I would not let him see how he broke me.
“You may want me out of your life, but you’re not pushing me out of Clara’s.” There was iron in my tone. Instead of sobbing as I packed, I’d made decisions. About my future. I’d made plans. Desperate for control and agency, I’d made lists.
“I don’t want you…” Beau sighed, running fingers through his hair. “I would never take Clara from you,” he whispered. He said it like Clara was mine. Like I had some kind of claim over her.
I felt it. In my soul, I felt that Clara was mine. I felt that I’d be connected to that girl my entire life. But I’d been ashamed of those feelings, that I wasn’t entitled to them. She felt like mine, but she wasn’t. I didn’t carry her. Didn’t share her blood.
Yet she was my heart, nonetheless.
How remarkably sweet and equally evil of Beau to say, then, of all times, that I had a claim over Clara. When he was tearing us all apart.
“She’ll be starting kindergarten soon.” I summoned the strength to keep my voice even. It still trembled a little, despite all my effort. “I’ll take care of her until then. I’ve already been approved to transfer to the nursing school thirty minutes away, so I can still see Clara, take care of her on the nights you’re at the restaurant.”
Beau’s eyes widened in surprise then his face softened, gentled. He stepped forward, to do what, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t have him too close. No way I could survive that, not without falling to my knees and begging him to take me back.
Even though that’s what I wanted. To break down. Plea. But if I had to beg for a man then he didn’t deserve me in the first place. I repeated that like a mantra.
“I don’t need anything from you,” I told him firmly. “Aside from telling me that you understand me, I don’t want you to say anything else.”