Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
“Do what?”
“Live.”
He laces his hands behind his neck and bows his head. “Jesus, Josie.”
“I talked to a parapsychologist in California. She’s had a slew of lives. She said my only hope is that I die again, and someone brings me back to life so whatever new near-death experience I have will erase the last one. I have to try.”
Glancing at me, he lets his hands fall from his neck, flopping at his side. “Surely you know there are grave risks.”
“Death. Yes. I’m well aware.”
“If you’re resuscitated, you could be in a coma.”
“I know. I’m going to go over all of this with you.”
A manic laugh bubbles from his chest while he turns and paces the kitchen. “You’ll go over all of this with me. Great. That’s a relief. I feel much better now.”
“Do you want to know where I was a little over an hour ago?”
“Not really. I don’t want to know where you are right now, but I do because you’re standing in my kitchen after having not seen you in years.”
“I was in a wedding dress. Today is my wedding day. Was my wedding day. I cut off the flower girl’s hair in a ponytail, told her to give it to her dad, the groom, and then I left. I left knowing there is an extremely high probability I won’t ever see him or any of my family and friends again.”
Felix stops his pacing and stares at me, maybe to gauge the sincerity of my words. Maybe he’s stopped pacing because my words are shaky, and my eyes are filled with tears.
“This is my only chance,” I whisper, blotting the corners of my eyes. “If I can’t get rid of these memories, I can’t go on living.”
Felix deflates on a deep sigh. “What are you expecting from me?”
Drawing in a shaky breath, I hug my arms to my chest and pad my way to the wall of windows facing his backyard. “I need you to suffocate me.”
“Jesus Christ …”
Ignoring his reaction, I continue. “You will tie me up, so I can’t fight you.”
“No … no. No. No. Do you know what the chances are of saving your life after asphyxiation?”
“Slim, but I drowned, and they brought me back.”
His eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Great. Let me rephrase it then. Do you know what the chances are of me resuscitating you after being asphyxiated for a second time in your fragile little life?”
“Felix, I’m most likely going to die. Look at it this way. If you knew that your wife’s heart was going to stop beating, would you rather it happen when she’s alone or when you’re right next to her with a defibrillator, oxygen, and medication to restart it regardless of the statistical chances of bringing her back?”
He frowns. “What happens if you don’t make it? Or what happens if I restart your heart, but you’re in a coma? What happens if—”
“Again, I’ll go over all of this with you.”
“This is too much.” He shakes his head.
“You owe me.”
“Not this.”
“Look around, Felix. The house. Your family. Your job. Hell, probably even those two dogs. You have this life because of me. And for the record, I was never planning on asking you for a single thing. But I’m in a dire situation, the way you were in a dire situation. I need you to step the fuck up and help me. I need you to take a little risk the way I took a risk covering your ass.”
He rests a hand on his hip, head bowed. “You are not a good person.”
“But I want to be,” I whisper. Again, I tear up. “I want to sleep and dream like a normal person. I want to smile because I’m happy not because I’m hiding the pain. I want a job. I want love. I want what you have. I want what I gave you.”
I hate this.
I am not this person.
Desperation squeezes every last ounce of humanity from my soul. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe I should have just … ended everything for good.
“I have a storage unit with electricity.”
My gaze lifts to Felix’s. I was right. He was worth saving.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“I don’t understand,” Colten whispers against my head. “Help me understand.”
“This might not be the best place for a reunion,” Felix says.
“Colten … I’ll uh … grab a cab home,” the pretty woman in a red dress says.
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t move.
Pressed to his chest, I make eye contact with her. She offers a sad smile, touches his arm, giving it a tiny squeeze, and clicks her heels toward the exit.
Colten doesn’t stop her. Not a single word of acknowledgment.
He moved on. In his mind, I died, and he moved on. And now a pretty lady in a red dress is brokenhearted because she thinks I’m back from the dead? I can’t walk unassisted. I’m skin and bones.