Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
A sob rips from my throat without permission. I don’t want to cry in front of everyone, but my treacherous tears keep coming. I’m surrounded by people, but I feel so fucking alone. The thought has no time to take hold when I feel a warm hand wrap around mine, interlacing our fingers like they belong together.
Blinking the tears away, I look down at Colt’s hand holding mine. Colt stole my first kiss, my virginity, and many other things. We have been together in every way possible, yet this feels more intimate than anything else we have shared.
The rest of the funeral goes by in a blur. Most people come up to Colt and give him condolences; some ignore me completely, and others turn to me briefly with fake well wishes. I don’t really care about any of it. I think the only thing keeping me sane is Colt’s hand, which stays securely wrapped around mine through it all. Even when people hug him, he never lets go of me.
By the time we get back to the apartment, I’m beyond exhausted. All I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep for the next week. The only thing keeping me from doing so is Colt. All day, he has been my rock, my lifeline, the glue that held me together.
Now it’s my turn to be there for him. His nervous energy is enough to fill the room. “It doesn’t feel right without him.”
“I know. But you have to remember he could be, you know… watching from another place.” I wince at the way he looks at me, like that’s the dumbest thing he’s ever heard, and maybe I shouldn’t talk anymore. “It’s possible.”
“But it’s not the way it is. He’s alive.”
“If he was, why would he stay away all this time? He could at least have gotten word to you that he’s alive, Colt. I want him to be alive, I really do.” When he scoffs, all I can do is put my arms around him. “I do. I want it for you.”
He hugs me back, stroking my hair. “He’s trying to give us space to be together.”
That’s a new one. “What do you mean?”
“It’s exactly the kind of thing he would do. He’d want to stay away to give us space because he knew.”
“Knew what?”
“He knew I loved you first.”
I can’t have heard that correctly. “What did you say?” I lift my head from his chest and look up at him in confusion. “You what?”
“I loved you. I still love you,” he whispers, taking my face in his hands. “I have for a bit. But I couldn’t exactly come out and admit that, so I went too far in the other direction. Like I was covering, I don’t know.”
“You’re telling me that you loved me all that time? Even when you were so cruel and mean?”
“I did. Very much.” A faint smile starts to stir. “I still do. I understand if you can’t love me. I don’t deserve it, not after everything I put you through.”
He loves me. Something about that feels right. The first truly right thing to happen in the past few months. On the other hand, could he really be this good of an actor?
“I want to believe you. Maybe a part of me already does…”
“But?”
“But… it felt real. If you really did care about me, how could you hurt me so badly? How could you watch me suffer?”
I can see the turmoil in the depth of his blue eyes. He is thinking about what to tell me. I just hope it’s the truth.
“Because hating you came so easy to me.”
He might as well slap me in the face. His words sting more than I like to admit. I’m about to ask him where the hell he is going with this when he continues on his own.
“I knew it wasn’t your fault that my father was obsessed with you. Nothing he did was your fault. Yet if it wasn’t for you, none of this would have happened. At least not in my mind. If you hadn’t been there competing that day, my dad would have never seen you. He wouldn’t have risked his marriage, and he wouldn’t have hurt my mom.”
“Colt…”
“I know, I know.” He throws up his hands. “I know I shouldn’t have blamed you. I know that. I’m just explaining to you how it was easy to do.”
“It came so easy to you then. How do I know we won’t go back to that? How can I trust that you won’t wake up one morning and decide to hate me again?
“Because I let that shit go. You have to believe me. I let it go, and now if I simply think about it, I feel so fucking guilty. I’m sorry. I hope you can give me time to prove it.”