Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
It floors me.
Absolutely short-circuits my brain.
Shit.
If I wasn’t hauling her to safety as fast as I can without tripping, I’d have to stop and stare into space to process what she’s saying. It’s too fucking enormous.
The rest of her life.
Not just a few weeks, a month, a year.
Not just the hottest, strangest summer of our lives, bursting with stolen kisses and fatalistic pleasure.
Her whole life.
Fuck me.
The sweat pouring down my face in this heat must be getting in my eyes. They sting like hell.
“If my dad would just buzz off,” she slurs, “and if my life wasn’t a wreck, I would choose you. Always. Every time.”
“Winnie.” My voice breaks.
This wasn’t where I planned on making a big declaration of love—hell, I hadn’t planned on any declaration at all—but the words throttle my lungs and I need to get them out.
Right the fuck now.
Her breath flowers across my neck and she grabs at my shirt.
“I’m so sorry for pushing you away. I was wrong, Winnie. Shutting you out was dumb as hell. I see that now, I—” I’m not good at apologies, even when I know there’s a decent chance she won’t remember this once she’s better.
Goddammit, though, I need to say it anyway.
Especially when I already told her the rest once.
And once wasn’t nearly enough.
“I love you,” I growl. “I love you because you’re a free spirit. Whether you know it or not, you came and set me free, and I love you for that. I’ll never forgive myself for seeing it so late, for putting you through this, but fuck.”
She shifts in my arms. The tip of her nose feels oddly cold against my throat when the rest of her is fire.
It’s damp, and when I glance down, I see she’s crying.
“I don’t make the same mistake twice. If you’ll have me, after this is over, I’ll keep you, Sugarbee. I’ll keep you for the rest of your life.” I don’t care if it means I have to bend time and space and science to keep her alive.
I’ll be here for every breath she has, all her days.
I’ll be the man she can count on to never let her go.
Next to Colt, she’s more important than anyone else in the world. I know she shares that feeling, and I don’t care if she’s too sick to say it or even comprehend it right now.
She understands, though, and I love it.
Just like I love her.
It’s stunning that it took a wake-up call this horrible to beat some sense through my thick damn skull.
Before she went missing, I was walking around with my head in the clouds, adoring her and needing her and wanting her but never knowing how much I loved her.
If it takes me ten years, I will find a way to prove it.
Every day, I will fight for her.
But she’s still crying, and I hold her tighter.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper softly. “Tell me where it hurts.”
“No, it’s just… why does this have to be a dream?” Her voice hitches. There’s such anguish it almost stops me dead.
“Winnie, listen. You’re not dreaming. I’m really here, holding you, taking you to get some help.” I shift, propping my leg against a rock and freeing an arm so I can cup her cheek. “I’m as real as my beard, sweetheart.”
Her fingers feel so small and warm as she clings to my hand, her cheeks slick with tears.
Her chest heaves.
If taking her pain ten times over would ease her anguish in the slightest, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
“I was dreaming, though. I dreamed you’d say that for so long. I wanted you to say it, to tell me you loved me. But now you did and it’s all in my head.” Her crying intensifies, wet sobs that rack her entire body. “I wanted it for real.”
“It is real. Winnie, look at me.” I turn her head to look into her eyes. “Do you see that? I love you. This is real.”
Her eyes are wide and her cheeks are glazed with tears as she looks up.
“I hope I never forget your face.” She laughs.
It’s no use.
The sooner I get her to a hospital, the faster she’ll have her brain back.
I’ll tell her a second time, and she’ll believe me. It’ll be easier after I’ve done it once. I test the words again.
“I love you.”
Those three words are so fucking heavy they almost break me.
I’ve said them to Mom, of course, but that’s an old habit. A kiss on her cheek, a quick ‘love you’ at her house before I grab Colt and go.
Back when Rina and I were together, I said it to her, too.
Not often, admittedly.
More at the beginning, when we tried to convince ourselves it was true and our cursed relationship could work. Back when we were naïve.
Then it faded and stopped.