 by Jodi Ellen Malpas.jpg)
Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
When she walked out on him, he was left lost and even more broken than before, the small taste of heaven he was given taken away.
But their unbreakable connection leads her back to him, and he refuses to lose her again. Except Ava’s only scratched the surface of his broken soul, and as their relationship intensifies and their love deepens, Jesse is pushed to the brink of insanity as his past creeps into his present and risks destroying his future.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
I don’t know how many times I’ve opened my eyes and quickly closed them again. I don’t know how many hours or days have passed. I’m moving but not moving. Hearing but not hearing. Feeling but not feeling. My skin is sore, my head thumping. My darkness too comforting to leave. I’m too afraid to open my eyes, too much of a coward to face my wrongs.
Without the energy to fix my fuckups.
There are so many.
You’re one fucked-up sorry state.
You need help.
But . . . I’m beyond help. Especially now—now she’s gone too.
Everyone. Gone.
I melt back into the hard floor, feeling like I’m fading away. Wishing I could finally be spared the mercy of this agony. Never. Because I don’t deserve respite. Every cruel, painful thing that’s happened to me in my lifetime is justified. And offering me the hope of redemption before taking it away? Giving me Ava and taking her away? I had it coming.
I hear some yelling, but it seems far away, and I roll my jaw, feeling it scrape across the decking under my cheek. My mind bends and twists, my past playing on loop, ruthlessly reminding me, yet again, of the endless hole of misery that is my existence. But amid the horrors something shines through. Something good. It’s hazy, barely detectable, but it’s there, trying so hard to overpower the merciless evil.
Ava.
I pushed her away, screamed at her, scared her, made her question . . . everything. I made her run. I made her fight her feelings.
I made her leave me.
But she’s not gone? Not gone, but not quite here either.
Because she can’t find her way through the darkness to me. I have to get to her . . . but someone pulls me back, stopping me. I feel something press into my back, my brain rattling as my head is lifted, hands rubbing all over my face, through my hair, all over my naked chest. There’s talking. Words that sound miles away. I can’t decipher what they’re saying. Can’t make out the voices.
But then there’s one I recognize, and it’s begging me to open my eyes. Saying my name repeatedly, sounding distressed. A face appears through the darkness, and my heart races as I reach for her. She’s too far away.
No!
My legs start moving, frantic and fast, trying to run to her and yet I get nowhere, watching her drift farther and farther away from me. Soon, she’ll be out of reach completely. Soon, she’ll give up trying to find me. Soon, she’ll be gone forever.
Soon, all I’ll have is this darkness and more regrets.
No hope to cling on to. I don’t think I can shoulder anymore grief. I can’t lose the only piece of relief and happiness I’ve found in years.
I’ll never survive it.
Don’t leave me!
Warmth penetrates my hand, and something seeps into me, something soothing. I still, concentrating on feeling it. It’s familiar. Comforting.
And then it’s gone, and I’m suddenly weightless. Moving. Don’t take me away from that feeling! Something soft meets my back, and something softer meets my cheek.
It’s back. That feeling is back, and as it rubs gently up and down my face, the darkness starts to fade again. Something subtle and delicate invades my nose, and something presses to my forehead. Lips. Soft, full lips. My arm shoots out, grappling at the lingering darkness, trying to seize the source. “Ava?” My eyes sting just trying to get them open, and the glare hurts, but I frantically search everywhere, looking for her.
And then I find her.
Her mouth moves, she’s speaking, and yet awe is clouding my ability to hear her. A rush of memories takes me hostage—our row, the drink, her face a picture of shock and devastation. Disgust.
You’re one fucked-up sorry state.
You need help.
I try to lift my head, but it’s so heavy, so painful, and I slump back down, out of breath. Broken. My mouth is dry, words sticking to my tongue, but I force them out. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . .”
She takes my hand and lifts it to her face. Her touch is like a sedative. My mind shuts down, the weight of my regrets too much, and I succumb to my exhaustion.
I have only enough energy to pray she wasn’t a dream.
2
I’m warm. So damn warm. I gingerly allow my eyes to peel open, the dusky light not quite dusky enough not to hurt. I look down my body, squinting, seeing blankets coating every inch of me. My sensitive skin feels tender under them. I’m sweating, suffocating, so I lethargically push the stifling material down my body in search of some air. How did I get here? With blankets and a pillow?
I reach up to my pounding head, putting pressure on my temple to try and dull the pain. “Fuck,” I murmur. There’s only one cure.