Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
What was I thinking? That’s the problem…I wasn’t! My heart and body have been dictating my decisions. My thoughts go back to the conversation I had with Killian. “What’s next? Marriage? Babies?” I should’ve pulled the brakes on all of this the minute I found out Jase was a dad. We never should’ve even begun. Instead, I chose to live in denial, refusing to give thought to what our future would look like. How could I be so irresponsible? I run a multi-million dollar corporation for God’s sake! I make huge decisions every day, yet I went into this thing with Jase without even giving it a second thought. I can’t be someone’s mom. I can’t be responsible for the welfare of another person. My heart cracks at the thought of letting Skyla down in any way. And that’s what will eventually happen. I will let her down. And with that sobering thought, I know what I need to do. Sure, we’ll all be hurt on some level, but it won’t be nearly as bad as it will be if I stay. With every day that goes by, we all get in deeper, and the deeper we get, the more it will eventually hurt.
Climbing into bed, I face the wall and pull the covers up to my chin. My eyes burn with unshed tears, but I refuse to allow them to fall. I’m doing this to myself. I’m making the right decision. I don’t deserve to cry.
I hear when Jase gets back. When he joins me in bed, he tries to pull me close. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. I can feel his erection pressing against my butt. But I don’t move. I pretend like I’m asleep, and a few minutes later, he’s snoring softly.
Carefully, I roll away from Jase and off the bed, so as not to wake him up, then quietly pack my luggage. I don’t bother getting dressed. I don’t want to risk waking anyone up.
I’m about to exit the room, when the guilt of leaving yet again without a goodbye hits me. I find a pen and paper in the desk drawer and scribble out a note.
Jase,
I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. It’s better to break our hearts now than later. I’m sorry. Please don’t call or text me. It will only make this harder.
xo Celeste
* * *
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I thought we were meeting for lunch.” My mom is standing over me with her hands on her hips, her head tilted to the side in confusion.
“I broke up with Jase.”
“Oh no, why?” Mom joins me on the couch and pushes my messy hair out of my eyes, just like she used to do when I was little, during the rare moments she was nurturing.
“Because Skyla called me Mom when I was kissing her goodnight,” I tell her honestly.
“And who is Skyla?”
“Jase’s daughter.”
“And her calling you Mom is a bad thing, why?” She gives me a perplexed look, needing me to explain the issue. But how do I explain to her that my issue of not wanting to be a mom stems from my own mother. Before I can come up with a way to say what I’m feeling, my phone vibrates. Picking it up from the coffee table, I see it’s Duncan again.
“I need to take this,” I tell my mom, pulling the sheet she must have covered me with off and standing. “Hello,” I say as I step outside.
“Celeste, it’s Duncan, how are you?”
“I’m…okay. I saw you called yesterday, but I wasn’t able to answer.” Still in my pajamas, I walk a little ways down the sidewalk to make sure my mom can’t overhear.
“That’s okay. I didn’t want to leave a message. I found your guy.” My steps falter. Duncan continues, “Snake aka Fredrick Leblanc was killed in a motorcycle accident on July eighteenth, nineteen eighty-nine on State Road seventeen.” I gasp as I recall what the date is today. July twentieth…which means July eighteenth was two days ago. He died the day he left my mom. “He was hit by a semi who had been driving for too long and fell asleep at the wheel. His mother was his emergency contact and she identified his body. The funeral was held three days later at Holy Cross cemetery in Atlanta, Georgia where he was born and raised.”
“He died the day he left,” I murmur mostly to myself. All these years of her wishing and hoping and dreaming, and the entire time there was no hope.
“I have some more information that I was able to find, but I know you wanted to know what happened. I’ll email it all to you, and if you have any questions, please call me.”
“Thank you,” I say before I hang up.