Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“There was a storm last night, but I think it broke,” he says, pouring some soup in a bowl for me. He puts it in the microwave and then grabs me some water and crackers. He doesn’t say anything else, and I know he has all the questions to ask me, and I have to tell him. The beep tells him that the soup is ready, so he grabs it and brings it to me and then grabs his own.
“Thanks, Daddy,” I say, and a tear escapes and rolls down my cheek. “For everything.”
“Baby girl.” He hugs me from the side, kissing my head. “I would climb the tallest mountain on the coldest day naked for you.”
I try to laugh but just a smile comes out. “That is some visual.”
He grabs his spoon and starts to eat, and I do the same, blowing on it before bringing it to my lips. “What is going to happen?” I ask him while I eat my soup.
“Whatever you want to happen,” he tells me.
“I don’t think I can work with him anymore,” I tell him, and he nods. His phone rings in his pocket. He takes it out and looks at me. “Go take the call, Dad.”
He nods his head and steps out of the room. I get up and walk to the sink, putting my bowl in there, and then step outside, soaking in the heat of the sun. I walk past the infinity pool and lie down on the round couch he has outside. I close my eyes, thinking of him. I can almost hear him call my name, but it’s all in my head.
My father comes outside and sits next to me. “How long will it hurt?” I ask him, and he looks at me. “The pain. How long will it last?”
“I don’t know the answer to that, but I know that each day, it’ll get a bit better. The pain will numb, and then one day, you are going to wake up, and it’ll be gone,” he tells me, looking out at the mountains all around him.
“The pain is more today than it was yesterday,” I tell him. “I thought it would be lighter, but it’s not.”
“Because you haven’t seen him,” he tells me. “Even though he broke your heart, seeing him makes your heart know that he is right there.” I nod, not asking him anything more. That night, I take a bath, a hot bath, and let the tears fall, thinking of him. Every single day plays in my head, every single time he smirked at me or smiled is there when I close my eyes. When I dream, it’s of him calling my name and me turning but not going to him. I walk away from the pain, but it just hurts even more.
When I walk into the kitchen the next day, my father is there with a coffee in his hand. “Good morning,” he says with a smile, probably happy I got out of bed. “I have coffee.”
I nod at him, taking a cup and helping myself. “I have to go get dressed,” I tell him. “I’m supposed to meet everyone on set at ten,” I tell him, looking at the clock and seeing it’s almost eight.
“Honey, why don’t you take an extra day off?” He tries to talk me into staying home.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to let him know he broke me.”
“Honey,” he says, and I just shake my head. “Okay, we will play things your way.”
I nod at him and walk up the stairs to my room. Opening the closet, I find the things my father has here for me just in case. I grab the pink dress, but I can’t put it on, so instead, I grab the black pants and slip them on. I grab the black camisole and black jacket, and I slip on the black shoes he has there with the chunky heel. I go to the bathroom and tie my hair in a ponytail. I walk out of my room the same time that my father comes out of his own. “You look nice,” he says, and I know he’s lying. I had to put some makeup on under my eyes to cover the discoloration.
“Is it okay if I come back here tonight?” I ask him, and he stops walking.
“You never, ever need my permission. This is your home; all my homes are your homes.” I nod at him. “Now if it ever gets too much, I want you to step away. Do you understand me?”
“I do,” I tell him and go to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Dad.”
He nods at me, and I walk out the door, going to my car, sending Sylvia a text that I will be on the set in thirty minutes. She answers back that she is already there. When I called her last night and told her everything, she didn’t say a word. She only said she would take care of it, and that was it. I make my way to the set, my heart pounding in my chest and the tears burning my eyes. I let one slip by, thinking it’ll be just one, but it isn’t.