Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
A change crosses over his face, and it’s a harden of everything, a flip of a switch, from nostalgia to anger. I sit back in the chair, needing a little distance and unsure of what is setting him off.
“I thought it was love for me. Now, I know it's not. It was your feelings for him. Your love for him. Not me. And that's why you chased me. Why you wanted to be with me so badly.” He runs a rough hand through his hair. "I spoke to the doc, after you and I fucked in here." I flinch at the words, tossed out so carelessly, as if the act had been nothing. As if it hadn't ripped out my heart and left it on the carpet lying between us.
He slides to the edge of the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and the slight distance closer makes my heart beat a little faster. "He explained that you were dating me, fucking me, just to keep Brant closer." He heaves to his feet and walks closer, until he is standing before me and he’s definitely mad now. Not weak Lee, fading into the background. Strong, furious Lee, whose eyes are burning into me with disgust and betrayal.
And there wasn't anything I could say to argue with him. It was true. For the first year, before I fell in love with Lee for Lee—I was just keeping Brant as contained as I could. Babysitting his body until his mind returned.
"Every time you kissed me. Spread your legs for me. Got on your knees and sucked my cock, it was for him. That's what he said, and do you understand how that makes me feel?" He places a hand on each arm of my chair and bends over me, my back stiffening as he lowers his face to my neck and inhales my scent. Burying his face in my hair, he whispers my name. "God, I'm gonna miss your smell."
The tears flow like rivers down my cheeks and my control breaks into a thousand pieces as I clench my eyes shut and stay still, my fingers digging into my thighs so hard that the fabric of my slacks rip. I take a shaky breath and it comes out as a sob. “I'm sorry. I’m so sorry."
He places a soft kiss on my cheek, then a series of gentle imprints along my cheekbones and chin, catching each of my tears before his lips brush mine. I open my mouth, but he pushes away and I feel his absence before I open my eyes, my vision clearing to see him standing before me, his arms crossed over his chest, his features tight with anguish and anger.
He knows that I used him, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t love parts of him. I loved fucking him and I loved his imperfections when Brant was so complete, grounded, and brilliant. I loved his wild side, he gave me the proof that I was not my mother, that I had chosen love and a lower-class life, even if it was just for long enough to eat chicken wings and fuck a stranger and ride in a vehicle that was made in America. I should say something—anything—but I have nothing but false apologies because I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
He blew out a breath in frustration. "I loved you. I still love you. Even when I hate you, I love you. I always will. Like I said, I'm an idiot, but I know that what I feel for you—it’s not going away." He bites his lip in a way that tells me he is close to crying. My vision blurs and I rub a hard hand over my eyes, wanting to cement every last view of this man before I lose him forever.
He sags, then drops to one knee, then the other, on the carpet. We’re eye level now, and he presses his palms together in a begging motion. "Just tell me what you want. If you want it, I'll leave. Not for him. I'll never do anything for him. But for you, I'll do it. I'll fucking kill myself inside of him."
I want to tell him I love him. I want to tell him but am no longer sure that I mean it. No longer sure that I love him and not because he is a part of Brant. The guilt of what I've done is suddenly enormous. I know what he wants to hear, what his eyes are begging me for, and I could tell him the things I love him for, but it will only complicate this situation even more.
So I say the right thing, what will help Brant the most. I say the words and wonder at the effects they will cause.