Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I see our future and want it more now than ever.
Am I completely shitting myself over being a father? More so than anything I’ve ever freaked out over before. But I figure if anyone could be good parents, it’d be me and Matt. We’d know what not to do.
Although, surprisingly, my father has never been more pleasant to deal with. After he had the rude awakening that the rest of the country didn’t buy his bullshit and Mom convinced him to finally give up the White House, we actually get along now. Matt and I have meals with my parents whenever we’re in New York.
It’s weird.
Standing up to my father changed our entire relationship, and when he realized he had absolutely no control over me, he stopped trying.
If anyone had told me a few years ago that I’d be the one with the more stable family environment, I would’ve laughed in their face.
But I’d trade my somewhat healthier relationship with my parents for Matt’s family to accept him in a heartbeat. I can handle my cold-hearted father and lukewarm mother. Matt can’t handle his family’s rejection.
I wish I could take away that pain for him, but short of yelling at him that his family will never change—which is just plain mean—I don’t know what I can do to help him.
Helplessness isn’t a new emotion for me, but it’s never hurt this bad.
Matt hands the baby back and kisses Fern on the forehead as we leave.
Char drops us at the hotel, and Matt’s quiet the entire ride and for check-in.
Not even naming rights over baby Nat is enough for him to forget the interaction with his parents and brother.
It’s not until we reach the room that he finally lets go. He collapses on the bed and curls into a ball.
I hate seeing him this way. Hate it. It makes me want to hurt his parents. Okay … I’d totally hire someone to do it. I can’t get my hands dirty. But it makes me hate them even more than I already do.
Climbing on the bed next to Matt, I sit against the headboard and put his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his hair and ignore the tears on his cheeks. Some shit from his childhood he still can’t shake—like not wanting to show emotion to anyone—so I don’t call him on it or draw attention to it.
We stay like that for God knows how long.
I want to fix him, comfort him, and wrap him in a bubble so no one would ever hurt him.
Matt’s breathing evens out, and I think he’s asleep, but when the phone starts ringing in the room, he sits up in a rush with his face scrunched in confusion.
“It’s okay,” I say to him. “It’s the front desk. Lie back down.”
But he doesn’t. He reaches for the phone, and the hope he had earlier today is back. He just spent who knows how long crying himself to sleep, and now it’s like this afternoon never happened.
I wish he didn’t care so much. It’s so much easier not to get hurt when you have zero expectations. It’s armor I’ve used my entire life. It’s how I’ve survived. Which is why I have no idea how to help Matt.
Matt answers the phone and mutters a few okays and uh-huhs into it.
When he hangs up, I look at him expectantly.
“My mom and brother are in the lobby. They’re coming up now.”
And the cycle continues. I force a smile but prepare to tell those fuckers to leave if I need to.
“They wouldn’t have come if they didn’t care,” I lie. They could be here to tell him to leave town again for all I know.
There’s a light rap on the door, and Matt takes a deep breath.
“I’ll get it.” Maybe I can tell them to fuck off before they say it to him, but of course, Matt follows me all the way to the door, and I feel him at my back as I swing it open to greet them.
Matt’s mother, Jennifer, is nothing like I’d imagined her to be. Earlier in the hospital, she appeared demure. Quiet. I guess I was expecting a white-trash loudmouth. Not this woman in front of me—soft-spoken, makeup-free, and drab wardrobe of plain jeans and button-down shirt. I see no resemblance to Matt at all.
We stand staring at each other without speaking longer than is socially acceptable, but I haven’t decided if I should even let them in yet.
Matt moves me out of their way, and his mom and Wade step into the suite. Seriously, Matt’s baby brother has to duck to enter the hotel room. He’s not bulked out like Matt, but the height … shit, I think he might give Shane Miller a run for his money, and that fucker’s a giant.