Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
And… well, that’s it, I guess. Budi and Evard might come home. And if they do, and they want to fight, I’ll be around. But Cort informed me months ago that none of the kids left at home in the village have any desire to be fighters. They were all very young when they were pulled out of the camp, most of them under the age of seven. Now they are fifteen or sixteen and they cannot even imagine a life in the ring. They are thinking about cities, and cars, and love, and living.
It’s over.
And I’m glad it’s over.
So I guess… I’m retired.
Beth didn’t come with us to Vegas. She said she needed time to finish her novel. Her and those damn novels. That’s all she’s done for the past year. Write, write, write. Just writing like a manic. She doesn’t let me read any of them. Not a single fuckin’ sentence. But I’m not much of a reader anyway.
Sometimes it blows my mind that we’ve been together so long.
Sometimes I feel like we’ve never been apart.
I do know one thing, though. We’re good together. It’s a weird situation, but we laugh a lot. And have fun. And take walks and stupid shit like that.
I almost feel normal.
She didn’t meet me at the airport. I told her I’d just take a car. So when I open the front door and see her, pacing back and forth on the terrace with a background of blue sky and sea behind her, I have to stop so I can let that feeling wash over me and memorize it.
I love her.
And it’s a completely different kind of love than anyone else I’ve ever loved in my life.
I close the front door and she turns to look at me, her mahogany hair blowing past her face. And then she smiles. “Lance. Good. You’re home.” She walks towards me, her long dress flaring out behind her. “You’re just in time.”
“Just in time for what?”
She comes up to me and gives me a kiss, then smiles and looks me straight in the eyes. “I’ve got news.”
She’s wearing that look on her face. A look that says she’s up to something. I stopped trying to predict her antics a long time ago. She’s always up to something, but I don’t much care because Beth is a dreamer. She dreams big, and they are dramatic, and always filled with a bunch of ‘what the fuck?’ moments. And I love it.
She slides my bag off my shoulder, letting it fall to the floor, and then she takes my hand. “Come with me.”
I don’t even bother resisting. Not that I’d even want to.
She leads me out to the terrace and over to a fire pit in the far corner. It’s piled high with… “What is all that?” I point to the pile inside the fire pit.
“My books!” She beams this at me with the brightest smile.
“Should I ask?”
She laughs and shrugs up one shoulder. “You probably should.”
“OK. Why are your books in the fire pit, Beth?”
“Because we’re going to burn them.”
“You’ve been working on those books for years. Why the hell are we burning them?”
And now she sighs, and kinda deflates a little. “Because… because that’s my story, Lance. Well, that’s Mackenzie Scott’s story. All her stories are in those books. All those letters, and words, and paragraphs, and pages belong to her. And do you know what?”
I’m smiling even bigger now. “What, Beth?”
“I don’t want to be Mackenzie Scott anymore. She’s not me. I’m Beth… what’s that stupid last name of yours again?”
Now I’m chuckling. “Carvalho.”
“Right.” She points at me. “That one.” Then she kinda wobbles her head a little, feigning uncertainty. “Beth Carvalho. It’s not good, Lance.”
“No?” My smile could not get any bigger.
“Not good, not really. But… you know, that’s kind of part of falling in love with a man. You might not like his name, but you take it anyway. So. From now on we are Lance and Beth Carvalho.”
“This is a big step for you, Beth. Settling on something that doesn’t tickle your heart.”
She sighs. “Agreed. I’ve grown. But it’s just a name. And if we want, we can change it. You, Maart. You’re what matters now. And that’s why Mackenzie Scott, and all her stupid, stupid stories, need to go up in smoke.”
Then she grabs one of those long fire pit lighters, flares it up, and reaches down to touch the flame to the pages in the pit. It starts slow, but soon her past is burning and crackling.