Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Seeing me suffer will give you pleasure?” I ask incredulously.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes.”
I stare at him in shock. I cannot believe that this is the man I have just given all of myself to, but the worst part is no matter how hard I try, I cannot find it in myself to regret it. Maybe it’s because a part of me is hoping this cannot go on and he will come to his senses someday. Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t done anything unforgivable yet. Despite the complete hostility, he’s still ensured that my father has been taken care of. He’s kept his side of the bargain. I take in a deep breath and release it. For my father, I will bear everything, and so I even manage to work up the sliver of a smile.
“Okay,” I reply. “We’ll do as you wish. I will not remind you of the past again.”
He pulls open the drawer on the bedside table and it is stuffed full with money. Disdainfully, he grabs a handful of bills and holds them out to me. His eyes dare me not to disobey him.
Clearly, he wants a reaction, and I decide that I am going to give it to him. Perhaps the only way to make him just as miserable as he is making me is to ensure that I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cower. I walk up to him.
Somehow I manage to work up a smile as I reach for the money. “Thank you. This is generous, but I hope you can do better next time.”
I turn around to leave. I expect him to call me back and stop me and make me pay for the way I have just spoken, but he doesn’t. It’s pure silence behind me as I make my way out. I know he’s watching my every move.
Once the door closes behind me, my shoulders slump. I return to my room and tuck the bills carefully into my kitty. I do not know what I will do yet, but someday, somehow I’ll make him understand that I am innocent of whatever he thinks I have done and I will make him apologize to me for this terrible injustice he is doing to me. For now, I need more than ever to make myself devoid of emotions and feelings because this is the only way I will be able to find my way through this nightmare.
“Just until Dad is well,” I console myself as I head to the bathroom. I need to wash him, us, the passion, the sweetness … the pain.
CHAPTER 22
EARL
I stand there, fists clenched at my sides, watching her leave, head held high and clutching her towel like some kind of armor. The air in the room shifts and it feels like she’s stealing something I can’t name. She doesn’t glance back, and somehow that makes it worse.
And as the door clicks shut behind her, the sound final and hollow, I realize I don’t feel the triumph I should. Instead, there’s a gnawing ache in my chest, a void that only seems to grow the longer I stand here.
She’s beautiful. God, she’s beautiful in a way that makes me want to rip her apart just to see the flaws I am so sure that she is so cleverly hiding deep inside her. And that thought makes me want to lash out, to hurt her before she can hurt me again. And I know exactly why it is like this. Why every time she makes me feel good, I have to tear it down. Why every time she softens the edges of my anger, I sharpen it against her. Why then does it hurt me to hurt her? When I know with every fiber of my being that she deserves it. That I am getting the revenge that I wanted.
I hate her. Don’t I?
But the truth? The truth is I don’t know anymore.
She makes me question everything. My anger. My hatred. Myself. And the worst part? She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.
I drag a hand down my face, trying to shake the weight of it all. My legs feel heavy as I move toward the bed, the sheets still carrying her scent, her warmth.
All I can think about is the vulnerability in her eyes, the way her lips trembled before she forced that defiant smile. The rain outside doesn’t let up, hammering against the windows in a steady, unrelenting rhythm, matching the chaos in my head and heart. As I sink onto the bed, still reeling from the sweetness of her body against mine, I feel unmoored, like I’m digging myself into a hole I’ll never climb out of.
The memory of her surrounds me—her scent, her taste, the way her body yielded to mine, soft and urgent. I can still feel her, every part of her, as if she’s left an imprint on my skin. My chest tightens as I sink deeper into the bed, her warmth still clinging to the sheets like a ghost I can’t shake.