Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
"I'll take this just in case," she says as she reaches for it.
"I grabbed this also," I say and pull a can of soda from the back pocket of my jeans.
"That has to be cold back there," she says with a grin.
"My butt cheek is frozen," I tell her with a grin.
We leave the room, me carrying the soda and her carrying the plate, and head out the back door to the pool.
I take a seat at one of the picnic tables, and much to my surprise, she sits right next to me rather than across from me.
My heart jumps in anticipation, but I know better than to read too much into it. We've grown comfortable around each other, and although the day has passed uneventfully, in the grand scheme of things, the news she got this morning and the events of last night are still very fresh.
She glances down at the plate in front of her, but makes no move to eat.
We watch the sun set behind the houses, and I pay extra attention to how the beautiful colors dance on the water in the pool. I tell myself that I need to fully live in this moment because I have no idea how long it will last or how many more of these moments I will get with her.
She doesn't fill the silence with words, and although we've had numerous encounters where words didn't seem required, I can't help but feel like there's so much that needs to be said.
I don't know if she's avoiding them or if she doesn't feel the weight of all of this the same way that I do.
I glance over at her when she pulls in a deep breath, but she still doesn't speak as she looks up at me.
Instead, she releases a little sigh and drops her head to my shoulder.
I don't hesitate to wrap my arm around her and hold her close, letting my chin rest on the top of her head.
It feels right, the perfection of how she just eases everything inside of me, something I've never had before.
The urge to break the comfort of our embrace and talk about what happens next quickly fades.
I've never been one to want to talk about my feelings. I fight Slick every time we have a session, but at the same time, I know that just shoving them down with the promise to deal with them later doesn't solve anything either.
This moment just doesn't feel like the best time, but maybe I'm avoiding it more than anything.
I had my mind set on letting her know nothing more can happen between us, but I made that decision before she went to the hospital, before she had the power to get through to the monster inside of me and make him change his course.
I don't know that I can try to be with her simply because she has the power to control my inner demons. I don't know that it would work out well for her or if she'll even want anything from me after what she witnessed me being capable of.
But with her head on my shoulder, body tucked in close to mine, I don't get the feeling that she wants to avoid me, although I know better than to make plans when someone is grieving or fighting with emotions from traumatic experiences.
People don't tend to make the best decisions when they're still burdened with their past. I also know that healing is a process, and sometimes the steps to fully heal include mistakes, and more than anything, I don't want her to look back on life and see me as a misstep or a mistake.
I open my mouth numerous times to speak my truth, to ask my questions, but I can't seem to form the actual words. Instead of feeling like a coward, I remind myself that her needs are paramount. They will always come before mine without hesitation.
The sun sets as we sit silently, and it isn't until she shivers that I move a single muscle. It's as if part of me feels like reminding her that I'm here will make her move away from me.
"You're cold," I whisper into her hair, drawing in the fresh scent of her shampoo.
"Just got a little chill," she whispers as she pulls her head back and looks up at me.
She doesn't speak. Her eyes just search mine as if she's looking for answers to unasked questions.
I don't know what she finds as I keep my eyes locked on her, but her lips curl up in a gentle smile.
"You're so handsome," she whispers, pulling back a few more inches.
I begin to argue with her, but she lifts her hand and presses it to my cheek.
The hopeful side of me, the man who has never been this emotionally close to anyone before, wants to live in those words. Her praise, even though it's about my physical appearance, makes me grin.