Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off.
“I was so in love with you, it almost killed me.”
Despair, genuine or manufactured, tightened his expression.
I sneered at myself. “I even thought of ending it once.”
Brodan looked as if I’d stuck a knife in him. “Roe.”
“Don’t worry. It was just the melodramatic musings of a young woman who realized that almost everyone I’d ever loved couldn’t love me back. I wanted to blame myself, which was why I contemplated jumping off the top of a college building. But as I stood there on the edge, I searched and searched for reasons, for actions so horrible they’d make the people I loved treat me like shit, and I couldn’t find anything that warranted the cruelty. I was mad at my parents for not loving me, but I wasn’t mad at you for not loving me the way I wanted. I was mad at you for messing with my head and for just not loving me, even as a friend.
“But I know I’m not a bad person. That I’m worth something. That the fault laid with my parents and with you. So I decided in that moment to step back from the ledge and promised myself that even if it took a lifetime, I wouldn’t let bitterness consume me. I wouldn’t stop searching until I found someone who loved me the way everyone deserves to be loved. Someone kind and protective and loving.
“Here’s the sad thing, and this might even make you laugh at the absurdity of it, but I don’t think I realized until these last few months that part of me still hoped that person could be you. And this occurred to me because I finally realized on Sunday night that the person I’m looking for will never be you.”
Tears brightened Brodan’s eyes. Real? Who knew?
Everything I’d bottled up inside was set free. Recklessly free. “I had an ex, someone I tried to love. He beat the shit out of me, just like Dad.”
Shock, fury, passed over his face. Was that real too?
“What is it about me that makes the people who are supposed to love me want to hurt me?”
“Monroe,” he whispered, as if in agony. “I’m so sorry.”
I shrugged, brittle, cold, almost numb from what had transpired. That Dad was gone and I’d never get closure with him. That Mum had stolen that from me. That the only man I’d ever loved my whole fucking life was as bitter a disappointment as the people who raised me.
“You never lifted your hands to me, but I’m your punching bag all the same.”
“Monroe, no—” He stepped toward me, but I raised my hands, my expression a stark warning for him to stay back.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving Ardnoch. For good. Once the year is up, I’m taking a job in the Lowlands. There’s too much pain here.” I looked at him, gesturing between us. “Even this place that was once so safe … it’s all pain now. You have no idea how it feels to live your life with no one who truly loves you, Brodan. No idea how lonely that is. But I refuse to give up on finding someone. To give up hope, because without it, what’s the point? So I need to let this place go. I need to let you go. Or I’m afraid I’ll just disappear.”
Sobbing, I turned my back on him and on the years spent and lost between us.
20
Brodan
Years ago, when I first lost Monroe, I didn’t think I could ever feel as bad as I felt in those months afterward. They were the reason I sought out acting. I wanted to lose myself in other characters, in other lives, so I didn’t have to dwell on all I’d lost in mine.
Then a few years ago, I’d received a letter that fucked with my head, and I didn’t think I’d ever feel guiltier, or more of a failure, as I had at that moment. Though the damage Fergus wreaked upon my family because of me certainly did its worst.
Nothing in my life, however, could prepare me for my current state of agony.
Once upon a time, Monroe Sinclair was so vital to me, I would have protected her against anyone who tried to hurt her, no matter what it took to make her safe and happy.
How was it possible that I could be the source of so much of her pain?
I think I’d allowed myself to believe that she hadn’t loved me like I loved her. It had made it easier to let her go.
But as she tore me to shreds with her confessions, realization dawned.
Stunned, I let her leave me on that beach. I’d given her that space. Because I had a truth to uncover first before I spoke to Roe again.
I was like the walking wounded as I banged on Mrs. Sinclair’s door the next afternoon. Waiting, I could feel my fury building, as if I needed that emotion to cope with how much everything bloody well hurt. I didn’t sleep last night. I’d forced myself to stay away from Monroe’s mum’s door until I couldn’t anymore. Answers were required.