Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Tears stream down my cheeks and I wipe them with the back of my hand. This deplorable feeling of helplessness has been eating at me from the inside out the entire time I’ve been laughing, joking, and holding on to the illusion that everything will fix itself.
But I should know self-healing is not an option for me. If I leave it this way, my state will only get worse, and who knows what I might do when I fall into that hideous pool of loss of consciousness.
That’s what the blood in my nightmares represents.
Something unavoidable.
“Mrs. King,” Dr. Blaine starts in a soft voice. “I’m afraid only your guardian can approve any increase of medication or alterations to your current treatment plan.”
“Then tell him I need it. He’ll listen to you. I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me like this.”
“If we increase the medication, you’ll be lethargic more often than not.”
“But I’ll be conscious of my surroundings. I want to be there in my life. I don’t want to lose moments because my stupid brain decided to check out. You’re a doctor, why can’t you heal me? Why can’t anyone heal me and give me back my life, my memories, my agency? I can only function with the help of meds and I’m finally fine with that, I accepted that, but why aren’t they working effectively anymore?”
The thought that this is a phase that will soon come to an end has been eroding me.
I don’t want the end.
Not when I’m just beginning.
Not when I’ve been the happiest in my life.
Dr. Blaine says nothing, but I wasn’t expecting her to. I just wanted to vent to a stranger so I wouldn’t hurt my family and friends or set off my parents’ alarm bells about my dreaded loss of control.
I stand up and pat my cheeks. “Let me ask one thing.”
“Yes?”
“Will I ever be normal enough to have children?”
She remains silent and that’s all the answer I need.
If I have children, I can’t raise them or I’ll most likely be a threat to them.
Better yet, I shouldn’t have them for everyone’s sake.
And that will leave the heir of King Enterprises heirless.
Because of me.
I came to Dr. Blaine to seek answers, but I leave with a heavy heart and tears burning my eyes.
That afternoon, Eli invites me to watch him be a sex god.
Sorry, I meant play polo.
It’s not my fault that he looks hotter than sin in his tight white polo shirt while commanding a horse with infinite ease.
I’m so happy I brought a lace fan that matches my umbrella, because I need to cool off whenever I look at him.
The downside is that his team plays against Papa and Remi’s. Worse, he’s accompanied by Uncle Aiden, Landon, who’s staying longer than needed—probably because Mia joined him—and Bran, who came to visit his parents with his fiancé, Nikolai.
Said fiancé stands out like a sore thumb amid our heritage dresses, Ralph Lauren blazers, and Loro Piana-acquired pieces.
Doesn’t help that he shouts profanity when anyone gets within a meter radius of Bran. Mia attempts to haul him down whenever he stands up, with little success.
At one point, he and Ari nearly started a fight because he called Remi a ‘motherfucker’ for lightly shoving Bran, and I swear she would’ve clawed his eyes out if I hadn’t brought her down.
As volatile as the situation is, I’m glad to get my mind off things. Even temporarily.
Besides, I’ll take any opportunity to dress up and look pretty.
I’m wearing a polka-dotted pink dress, the tulle underskirt adding a touch of playfulness to my outfit. Delicate lace gloves adorn my hands, matching the intricate design of my round hat. I completed the look with white-rimmed shades that shield my eyes from the bright sunlight while adding a chic and fashionable flair to my ensemble.
“This is so exciting,” Mama says from beside me, rocking her vintage dress.
“More like a disaster waiting to happen. If not on the field, then here.” I tug on my sister’s sleeve when she tries to talk shit at both Nikolai and Mia. “Just sit down, Ari!”
“You’re both going down.” She does a slicing-throat motion.
“Don’t threaten me with that if you can’t perform it in real life,” Nikolai says, relaxing his feet so they’re crossed at the ankles.
Ari lifts her chin “Who says I can’t? Wanna try me, big man?”
“Why is she nothing like you?” Mia whispers to me. “She’s like a more vicious version of Anni.”
“Tell me about it. We better stop your brother and my sister from killing each other.”
“Amen to that. Besides.” She smiles with triumph. “It’s obvious whose team is going to win. No offense to your dad and Remi.”
“I heard that!” Ari jumps up.
“And?” Mia attempts to be oblivious. “Lan and his team are better at this.”
“That’s right.” Nikolai puffs out his chest. “My Bran is made for elegant sports.”