Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Her words from earlier play on repeat inside my head, “You know what, Remington, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re beyond saving. The person I used to know, the man that never would’ve taken from me, or hurt me, no longer lives inside of you, and that’s sad, so fucking sad.”
Tears sting my eyes...she’s right, she’s so fucking right and I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to let go of the pain. I thought doing this would make me feel better, maybe even free me from the pain completely. I thought I would be happier knowing that I hurt her, but instead I feel only more pain…I feel like a piece of shit, like I’ve harmed an innocent individual.
I shake my head, there is no going back now. She is right. I’m fucking doomed. Way past saving. She has no idea how fucking sad my life has become, how lost I am without her. I’ve lost my one single reason to breathe, and now I’m suffocating, slowly losing the best parts of me.
“You okay, Rem?” I hear someone at the door and wipe at my face with the back of my hand. I can’t answer the door like this. I can’t let them know how weak I am for this girl.
“Oh, uhhh yeah.” I try to keep the pain out of my voice. “I had some Mexican earlier. Pretty sure it’s running through me,” I lie, knowing I can’t go out there right now. I can’t face them or let them see me this way.
“Okay, man, just making sure.” After what seems like forever, I flush the toilet, wash my hands and walk out of the bathroom.
I grab my phone off the couch and walk into my room. I sink down onto the mattress and stare at the ceiling, wallowing in my pain, wondering how I got to where I am? How I let things get to this point?
◆◆◆
The guys and I walk into the house down the street, the party is already in full swing with the island in the kitchen as a makeshift bar and the living room as a dance floor. Thankfully the party isn't at our place tonight. I'm not sure I could handle it if it was.
It's been torture since I shared the audio with the guys. Days have passed, but the sick feeling clings to my bones, my insides like the plague. What I did was wrong...it was wrong with any other girl, but it was really fucking wrong where Jules was considered.
Some loud rap song starts to beat through the shit speakers, vibrating right through me, making the slight throbbing I already have behind my eyes worse.
Thomas grabs me a beer and I open it, taking a small sip. Normally I would be getting shit faced and finding something to sink my dick into, but tonight, the beer won't even be able to numb the pain, and no amount of slickness from another chick is going to help me forget the one person I truly want.
I nod, smile, and talk to people, acting like nothing is wrong, all while I'm slowly being eaten alive inside by guilt. Jules’ image haunts me every time I close my eyes, and when my eyes aren't closed, she's right there in real life fucking with my head and my heart.
I’ve regretted hitting play on my phone so many times that I wished I could go back in time and punch my fucking self for being such a selfish prick. It didn’t matter how many times I tried to swallow down the pain she had caused me. I had only hurt myself by letting others in on my sick need to hurt her.
“Oh, hey Rem, I didn't know you were here.” Layla saunters up to me, her hips swaying. She wraps her hand around my forearm and leans into me. “It’s really loud in here, wanna go upstairs?” she coaxes, batting her eyelashes at me.
“I just got here, maybe later.”
She gives me a disapproving pout and before I can stop her, she reaches out, wrapping her other hand around my cock. My dick twitches, but not because of Layla’s hand, no, it’s because at that exact second, I spot Jules across the room.
“Feels like he wants to go upstairs,” Layla coos, stepping even closer while rubbing my dick more vigorously. Of course, in that same moment, Jules looks up and sees me with Layla glued to my side like a leech. Even from across the room, I can see the anger simmering in her eyes right below the hurt and disappointment.
She expects better of me, hell I expect better of me.
When Cally sees me, she takes Jules’ arm and pulls her away, and together they disappear into the kitchen. I push Layla off of me and head that way. Now’s my chance to apologize for being a fucking asshole over and over again. I weave through the crowd, trying to get to her, but it seems like the forces are fucking against me. When I catch a break in the crowd, I take it, but I make it all of two steps before Cole’s frame steps in front of me.