Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 178(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
"I bought her a ring that morning," I mumble.
"Oh, Ridley," she gasps sadly. "Does she…?"
"Know? No." I shake my head, laughing abruptly. "She thinks I fled the country without a fucking word."
"I'm so sorry!" Haven cries. "It's all my fault."
It'd be easy to blame her. She's the one who told Paisley I left…but it isn't her fault. I fucked up all on my own the minute I left her sleeping in my bed without explaining. And I had a chance to fix it, but I was too goddamn busy feeling sorry for myself to take it.
Christ, I should have hopped out of the truck on campus that day and ripped her out of that fucker's arms. I should have demanded answers right then and there, sorted all of this out then. Instead, I fucking cracked. I ran.
Maybe Paisley was right this morning. I did run. Maybe not when she thought or for the reasons she thought. But I fucking ran. I saw her in the arms of someone else, and I couldn't fucking handle it.
I damned us both because I thought she'd made her choice, and I was too goddamn afraid of what I'd do if I stayed.
"It's not your fault," I murmur to my cousin, closing the tray on the printer. "I fucked this one up all on my own."
"What are you going to do?" Haven asks as I stride for the door.
It's a damn good question…and I'm not sure I have an answer. I know what I want to do. I want to go back and fix it. I'd beg her to wait for me, make damn sure she knew I was coming back for her before I left the house. But I can't do that shit. There is no rewinding time.
Can I fix it? After three years, I don't know.
I step out into the parking lot, squinting against the sun.
"You asshole!" Oliver growls, shoving me up against the wall out of nowhere. His forearm goes across my throat, pinning me against the bricks. He's a bristling wall of fury, his eyes narrowed on my face as he snarls at me. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"So…you talked to Paisley," I say, resigned. I don't even try to fight back. If he wants to hit me, it's not like I don't deserve it.
He shoves me away from him with a low curse. "How the fuck are we even related?"
"I ask myself the same shit every day."
He thinks I'm being funny, but I'm not. It's a compliment. Oliver is a hell of a man, just like Dad. I understand business, but people? Well, not so much. Oliver has that shit all figured out, though. He's always been a far better man than I have.
"You asked her who she was fucking," he snaps at me.
"That's…not exactly what happened," I mutter, shoving my hair out of my eyes.
"Oh, really? So she showed up crying for no reason?"
Guilt churns through me, burning like acid. I fucking hate that I made her cry. I hate that I'm an asshole. I hate that she hated touching me this morning. I'm in hell, and it's entirely my fault.
"I fucked up," I admit.
"Yeah, no shit." He scowls at me. "You're a fucking asshole, you know that? She's spent the last three years working her ass off to finish law school. She's been through shit you can't even imagine. And then you act like a dick for no reason."
"I know." I sigh heavily. "I fucked up."
"Yeah, you did."
"What do you mean, she's been through shit I can't even imagine?"
"Nu-uh. I'm not telling you jack shit, motherfucker."
"Tell me," I growl.
"If you want to know, ask her." He narrows his eyes on me and then he smirks. "Just don't be surprised if you end up bleeding to death from a head wound if you do."
"What does that mean?"
"It means if you make her cry again, we're beating you to death with a shovel and then feeding you to the sharks, you prick." He jabs me in the chest. "And Lyra told Ma that you made Paisley cry."
"Fuck," I groan, clutching strands of my hair. "You told Ma?"
"No. I let my daughter tell Ma."
"You're an asshole." I glower at my little brother. I don't know why the fuck people think I'm the diabolical one. It's very clearly him. Ma will fight a goddamn bear for her granddaughters. There's no way she isn't kicking my ass if Lyra told her that I made her aunt cry.
"Yeah, well, so are you." He jabs me again. "Fix it before you lose her forever, you idiot."
"I'm fucking trying!"
"Not hard enough."
"Did you know she thought I left for Italy that morning?"
"Yeah. I've been trying to tell your stupid ass for three years that she thinks you walked out on her."
"You never fucking said she thought I left the goddamn country while she was asleep in my bed!"