Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Fuck, are there tears bubbling in her eyes? “I know what you’re thinking,” she says quietly.
“Good, then maybe you can help me out, because I don’t know what to think.”
“Why do you care?” She eyes me carefully, assessing. I don’t know why I care, but it seems I do. So I just shrug lamely. With my head in such a tangle, I haven’t got much hope of explaining to Raya. “You think it’s an ex,” she states.
“It’s not?”
She shakes her head. “There is an ex. Dean. We split up four weeks ago after I found him in bed with someone.” A single tear slides down her cheek.
Well, damn. “I’m sorry.” What else can I say?
“Don’t be. It didn’t cut half as deep as losing my grandfather the day before.”
I recoil, somewhere between shock and disgust.
Raya takes a deep breath and paces over to the cabinet where the picture once stood. She pulls open the top drawer and takes out the frame, staring down at it in silence.
Her sadness saturates the air around us both. I can feel it, thick and heavy. Christ, I can’t even begin to imagine her hurt and anger. Damn her fucking ex. I want to cut off his balls, the heartless arsehole. I wander over, coming to a stop behind her. Instinct is the only explanation I have for nuzzling my face into her neck.
I glance down at the photo, seeing Raya’s arm draped over the shoulders of a silver-haired man, his face radiating the same light I’ve seen in her a few times. But now he’s gone, and he’s taken Raya’s spirit with him.
“I miss him so much.” Her voice cracks, and her shoulders start jumping, grief wracking her petite body.
“Shit.” I turn her in my arms and cuddle her, the urge too strong, the need overwhelming. When she snuggles, not just because she needs to, but because she wants to, I tighten my hold of her, resting my lips on the back of her head, closing my eyes and breathing her into me, just holding her while she sobs.
“I’m sorry.” She sniffs and pulls away, lowering her head, as if ashamed.
“Don’t be sorry.”
Turning away from me, she refocuses her attention on the picture of her and her grandfather. “Now all I have left is a huge house that he left me and an ex who suddenly wants me back.” My lip curls. He can think again. I move in close behind her, curling my arms around the tops of her shoulders, joining her in looking down at the photograph. “You have his eyes,” I say, seeing the zest for life in the old man’s—something I wish I could see more of in Raya’s.
She nods. “He was so wise. Seemed to have the answer for everything, you know? He told me not to trust my ex, but I didn’t listen to him.” She sniffs a little. “He told me he would break my heart, and he was right. I won’t disappoint him again.”
“Cold and emotionless,” I murmur, everything falling into place. This explains so much.
“Hux is the perfect solution.”
“You’re going to maintain that for life? No dating, no trusting?” My questions make me a hypocrite but, God, it seems like such a waste.
“It suits me. A means of escape from real life. And there are no gray areas, right? No risk of being shat all over from a great height.” She turns to face me, and I back off a little.
I’m getting a headache. “Right.”
“And you go there, too, so I assume you don’t want any gray in your life either.”
When did this become about me? I quickly realize it isn’t about me. It’s still about Raya—Raya and her need for reassurance that I’m not going to turn this into anything more than fucking. Is it too late? I clear my throat. “Yeah.”
She nods assertively. I hate how resolute she seems.
“What about your parents?” I ask.
“My mother died giving birth to me. My father killed himself shortly after.”
“Fucking hell.” I can’t keep my disbelief back. My heart breaks for her. Who held her before me? Who comforted her and wiped her tears? No one. Because there isn’t anyone in her life now, and that thought is agony for me. Just to know how alone she is. She wanted to forget. Forget that she has no one. Forget all of her losses, just for a while, because there is nothing she can do to forget them completely. And her ex? What kind of arsehole is he? I fall into a daze, analyzing every piece of information she’s offloaded. Her trust levels are understandably rock-bottom. She is rock-bottom.
“My grandpa devoted his life to raising me,” she breathes, her voice quavering. “He gave me everything I could dream of. I never anticipated being without him, and I honestly don’t know how to be. One day he was bright as a button as he always was, laughing and joking, and the next he was gone. A massive stroke. Just like that.”