Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
The thought stirs unspeakable emotions to life, and I push it away before I allow myself to react to them. I wish I could see my mother more often, but the truth is, seeing her like this kills me, and it’s even worse that in order to see her, I have to return home and risk running into my father. I wish I had more time.
“Maybe one of these days, you can come over, and we can spend the day watching movies like we used to when you were a little boy and came home from school sick.”
I smile and grab her hand. It’s cold in mine, and I flinch at the temperature of it. I miss her so damn much.
“I’d love to do that, Mom.”
“Good, I miss my boy.” She squeezes my hand as tightly as she can.
My phone dings in my pocket with an incoming text. Fuck. I can’t risk being late. Abruptly, I drop my mother’s hand and stand to button my jacket. "Okay, Mom. I’ve gotta go, or I'll be late, and then I’ll never hear the end of it. If I have time, I'll drop by before I head back to school tomorrow."
She gives me a frail smile, and I swear the light in her eyes dims a little more every time I see her. I remember her as the bright, vibrant woman who chased me through the gardens and held me close when I fell. Sometimes, you can have all the money in the world, but money means nothing when it comes to your health. Poor or rich, we all die the same. No matter what, I love her regardless. Until the end.
I swallow a lump in my throat, kiss my mom on the cheek, and head out of the suite toward the ballroom downstairs. Music from the band echoes down the halls. If I can hear it where I’m standing, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mom could as well. The thought enrages me. How can he act as if she’s already gone, buried six feet in the ground?
My jaw aches as I clench it. If I ever get married, there won’t be a single person or thing that stops me from being with my dying wife.
His absence makes me wonder if he even loves her? Thinking about it depresses me further, and I force myself to think about something else, anything else. I follow the sound of music. The party is already in full swing when I enter the ballroom. Rich assholes mill around, drinking overpriced liquor, talking boardrooms and stock profiles. A ragged breath leaves my lungs.
Why the fuck am I here? This isn’t my future. But it is… This is all you have.
I spot my father on the far side of the room. At first, I head that way, but then I freeze when he places his hand low, very low, on the back of a woman standing beside him.
She's wearing a backless dress, black like Dad’s tux, and leaning into his side. Their bodies are nearly touching. What the actual fuck? I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s not like my father has stayed faithful to my mother. I’m sure she knows he sleeps with other women, and knowing how soft my mother is, she probably convinces herself that it’s okay since she can’t fulfill her own wifely duties, but it’s not. It’s not fucking okay. It’s disgraceful. I’m not sure why I expected him to have the decency to wait, not when he doesn’t appear to have a decent bone in his body.
I march across the room and skirt the small group he's with to get in front of them, pointedly staring at his hand on this woman's ass. This plastic Barbie who will never be the woman my mother is.
My father doesn't seem to notice my mood or more likely doesn't give a fuck. The woman, however, can tell immediately, her eyes going wide the moment they meet mine.
I extend my hand out and give her the grin that's been charming the panties off the ladies for years now. "And you must be..."
She rushes to tell me. "Maddie Benson."
I lean over and kiss the back of her hand. By the looks of it, she can’t be more than a few years older than me, and definitely a lot less than the twenty-five years older my father is. After the introduction, I slip my hands into my pockets and stare pointedly at my father.
"I'm here. In the flesh. Please explain what you needed my attendance for again?”
"You're here because you're a part of this family, and I told you to be here. In the future, the business will belong to you. It’s important that the clients see your face and learn to trust you."
My gaze swings around the room. "Most of these assholes will be dead, in assisted living, or in jail before it’s my time to take over."