Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 104011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I go ahead and use the toilet, then quickly wash my hands. No longer wanting to be naked, I grab the bathrobe hanging on the hook behind the door. My vision goes blurry as I try holding back the tears. I’m so confused; I thought our relationship was growing into something significant. My back presses against the bathroom wall, and I slide down until my bottom meets with the hard tile of the floor. I shouldn’t have been so farsighted, but he’s made many comments himself, alluding to the fact he wants us to be an exclusive couple.
Travis knocks at the door, startling me. “Jules? Jules, are you okay in there?”
I hurriedly jump up from the floor and turn on the water faucet, pretending to be busy. A cheerful response escapes my lips, “I’m fine…be right out,” but I’m anything but cheerful.
I look into the mirror, and my eyes are rimmed with red, just great. After wiping the corners of my eyes with my fingertips, I cup my hands underneath the cool running water to splash on my face. Before I’m able to apply the cool water to my eyelids, I hear Travis walking in through the bathroom door. Crap, I guess I forgot to lock it.
Keeping my line of vision pointed directly at the porcelain sink, I ignore him and focus on the water streaming out of the faucet at full-speed. I don’t want him to know I’m upset; he’ll think I’m weak and not able to handle this relationship. I continue to let the liquid spill over the palms of my hands, avoiding his gaze. I can sense he’s approaching me, and I shiver. Please, just go away. I think he’s going to keep a safe distance from me, but he doesn’t. The heat of his body surrounds me as he leans into my side and places his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me tightly.
I watch with blurry vision as Travis’ free hand comes into view, and he turns the handle, shutting off the running water. Slowly, his hand approaches and gently touches my chin with his fingertips as he turns my head to the side to face him. I can’t look at him. My breath hitches as I try desperately to hold it together. He’s not having any of it. He tilts my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze head-on, and I’m a breath away from falling apart.
Remorse is etched in every colored speck of his eyes as he softly says, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. My reaction to what you said,” He shakes his head, “is not what you think.” His lips tenderly brush over mine in a soft, tender, apologetic kiss, and it makes my heart squeeze. “I’m not going to stand here and feed you a line of excuses for my reaction, but do know this.” He breathes over my lips as he confesses, “What we have is more profound than pure bliss, and believe me when I tell you I never want to let you go.”
He pulls me into a tight, warm, and loving embrace, reassuring me with kisses on the top of my head. I’m about to ask him what it was I said so wrong that would make him react in such a way, but something catches my attention. My nose wriggles like a rabbit’s. I smell something, and it isn’t a good smell. I look inquisitively at Travis and ask, “Do you smell that?”
He cocks his head to the side as if his ears can smell, and I want to laugh. He shakes his head. “No, smell what?”
Then it dawns on me. “Oh, my gosh! The bread I made, it’s burning!” We both bolt out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, skidding to a stop in front of the oven. The smell is ten times worse.
“Go open the doors and I’ll get it outside.”
When Travis gets the burnt bread outside, he asks curiously, “Where’d you find the flour you used to bake with?”
“In the food pantry, why?”
He shakes his head. “It’s like two years old; it should’ve been thrown out a long time ago. I bet there are weevils in it.”
I jolt back, mortified, my face twisting with repulsion. “Travis, you guys really need to get your bug situation under control here.”
~Travis~
Tangling my fingers through the ends of Jules hair, I mindlessly twine pieces of her golden strands between my fingertips. It’s late in the evening as I sit here with Jules watching Back to the Future. I smile to myself; it’s one of my favorite movies. I could watch it a million times and never get sick of it. I had given Jules her nightly medicine about a half-hour ago, and she’s out like a light.
Grant recommended I give her a sleeping pill with the drugs at night so the majority of Blyss would be released while she’s sleeping. Grant had incrementally decreased the amount of Blyss in milligrams, and then re-capsuled the drug, making several different dosages. I had him send the decreased dosages of Blyss to a P.O. Box number in Raleigh. I wanted to keep it as covert as possible, so I had Stryker picking up the packages for me. Just one more week of this regimen and she should be safely off all this shit. Surprisingly, it’s been smooth sailing weaning her body from the drugs, and I feel as if I’ve hit a huge milestone.