Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
But he’s my son, despite what he did to my woman. No, not my woman.
The round timer sounds. Ryan leans against the wall, his hands on his knees, gasping hard. I walk across the matted room and take my towel from the windowsill, wiping myself down. Looking out the window, I see a couple walking by on the street. My gym overlooks a local park. It’s almost like fate or destiny has put the couple there. The man is probably around my age, with silver hair and tall, with his hand resting on the lower back of a woman younger than him. Probably Molly’s age. He says something, and she laughs, looking up at him with so much love in her eyes. Can I really tell that from here?
It’s been three days since I last saw Molly, three days since I told her we had to end it before we even had a chance to give us a try. I’ve spent that time ruthlessly training my son, watching him day and night, making sure he doesn’t sneak off and get a drink. To his credit, he’s putting in hard work.
Every second I’m with him, I must force myself to forget what Molly told me. Ryan and I haven’t spoken about it. We haven’t spoken about Molly at all. The only time I mention her name is when the security firm calls me at the end of every day to inform me there have been no incidents.
“Are you okay, Dad?” Ryan asks, walking over and sitting on the windowsill.
I turn away from the park—from the temptation of the couple, the future I’ll never be able to have—and look at my son. He’s drenched with sweat, hair across his forehead. It makes him look younger somehow. “I’m fine.”
He nods, looking at the floor. Ever since the morning I woke him up for the ten-mile run—he collapsed at mile seven, but he gave it everything he had—he’s looked at me differently. It’s like part of him is scared. It pains me, but it’s necessary. He’s really trying. Sure, I’m watching him twenty-four-seven, but he’s putting the work in.
Ryan turns and looks out the window. “Do you know them?” he asks.
I realize I’ve gone back to staring at the couple. There’s this ache in my chest that won’t quit. It’s worse at night, lying alone, imagining Molly beside me, her curvy, perfect body pressed against me. Sometimes, my fantasies get so steamy I can hardly take it. Other times, I imagine holding her, kissing her gently, listening to her breath change quality as she falls asleep.
“No,” I say after a long pause.
Ryan nods again, glancing at me with that hint of fear. “Were you thinking about…” He swallows. “Molly?”
I curl my hands into fists. Hearing her name from him triggers far too many dangerous impulses inside me. I remember how distraught Molly looked when she told me about Ryan’s bullying.
“Why do you ask?”
“You seemed so excited when you told me about your date. I’d never heard you like that before, and now…”
“Now,” I snap, “I’m trying to help you. Unless you forgot about almost getting us all killed?”
He wraps his arms around himself, nodding. “That’s fair.”
I almost reach out, put my hand on his shoulder, and apologize for snapping. I have to stop myself from doing that every single time. I have to be tough for the foreseeable future, even if he hates me.
“But still,” he goes on quietly. “It was good to see you happy.”
“What are you saying? I should date Molly again? Your ex-girlfriend? A woman you’ve kissed. A woman you’ve…”
I can’t finish the sentence. Molly told me she’s a virgin, so they didn’t have sex. They did things, I’m sure, stuff I can’t let into my head, or I’ll go insane. There’s something wrong with me. Even after I knew about their relationship, even after the near gunfight, I still couldn’t stop myself from claiming her young body.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Ryan says.
I sit next to him. “Yeah, son, it’s strange.”
We sit silently for a while, and then he says, “Did Molly say anything about me… about us?”
I’m unsure if that’s hope in his voice, as if he wants her to have said something. I’ve been trying to lock away that in the deepest, darkest part of my mind, too. What if Ryan loves her? What if he’s struggling to let her go?
I can’t lie to him. “She told me some things, son, and I wasn’t too happy to hear them.”
I’m not looking at him, but I can feel his discomfort. It’s almost like a scent. He’s shifting, too, awkwardly moving on the spot as if he thinks I’ll tell him it’s time to spar again.
“It wasn’t a good relationship,” he says weakly.
“Was it a bad relationship, or did you behave badly?”