Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Why is he making me laugh through my sobs?
“Be your beautiful, inspiring, kind, exquisite self. Radiate that unmatched light of yours. I need your light, Scottie. I truly need it.”
I hug him harder than I’ve ever hugged anyone.
Fuck cancer.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
IT’S NOT MINE TO SHARE, EVEN IF IT’S MINE TO BEAR.
I shut off the shop lights for the night and lock the door. Koen’s pickup is parked beside mine, and the kitchen light is on in my trailer. Each step feels unbearably heavy.
When I open the door, he drops the puzzle piece in his hand and sits back. “Hi,” he says cautiously.
“Hi.” I close the door and toss the store keys onto my counter as Scrot greets me. I reach down and give him a quick scratch under his chin.
“Are we good?” Koen stands.
He’s talking about our minor argument on the phone, but I can’t think about that right now.
I shake my head. Seeing him brings everything to the surface again. The tears win. And I break down. “I h-had a b-bad day.” My body shudders with sobs.
As I melt into his arms, he holds me together. “Scottie? What happened?”
I can’t talk, not yet, so I cry until I can catch my breath.
Koen kisses my head. He cradles my jaw and deposits endless kisses all over my face. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
His words pull a few more tears from my swollen eyes.
“You … you’re right.” I close my eyes, letting him continue to kiss my face. Then I blow out a slow breath. “You can’t fix a bad day. Not with a hundred positive affirmations. Not with anything.” Before opening my eyes, I replay my conversation with Price.
“Scottie, you can’t tell Koen.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not real if we don’t make it real.”
“Price—”
“Please.”
Price has put me in a terrible position to keep this from Koen.
“Do you really love me?” I whisper.
He narrows his eyes. It’s unfair of me to ask him this on the heels of an emotional breakdown, but I’m in an awful situation. I need him to understand something—something I can’t tell him.
“Because I love you. I’m so in love with you, Koen Sikes.”
The muscles in his face relax. “Of course, I love you.” He presses his lips gently to mine.
I smile. It’s a sad one, but it’s also honest and raw. And it’s killing me to keep this from him. “I can’t tell you why I’m so emotional. It’s not mine to share, even if it’s mine to bear. And the reason isn’t selfish or petty. It’s the right thing to do. And I need you to love me and trust me.”
His hands slide from my face, landing idle at his side. “Scottie.”
“I wouldn’t ask this if—”
“Then don’t.” He shakes his head, taking a step away from me. “Please tell me you see how rich this is? You’re asking me to blindly trust you after your bad day, but when I had a bad day, you right away assumed I was drinking.”
I start to plead my case, but I close my mouth before the first word escapes. “What I did was defenseless. That was terrible of me.”
He stares at me as if he’s waiting for me to elaborate.
I shrug. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
“I don’t know how to deal with this. I’ve been transparent with you about my life. I need that in return.”
“I want to tell you.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“Is it a life or death situation?” he asks, each word bleeding sarcasm.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Koen rubs his hands over his face. “Christ, Scottie. I need a minute. I can’t even think right now. Come on, Scrot.” He slips past me toward the door.
I grab his wrist.
We have a stare-off. The pain feels like quicksand. And I don’t know who’s saving who or if we’re both destined to go under.
“Don’t go.”
“I need space.”
“I need you.”
He shakes his head, pulling out of my hold. The door clicks shut behind him, and he treks toward his truck with Scrot behind him. A few feet from the front bumper, he stops, dropping his head for a few seconds before pivoting. He’s coming back.
I can’t move. Everything hurts too much.
Koen opens the door. “Come with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I need more space than this trailer gives me, but the distance from my place to yours is too much.”
He. Came. Back.
Maybe not with a bouquet and a big smile, but he came back. I grab my bag and keys and follow him. He doesn’t give me a second look before hopping into his truck and backing out of the lot while I climb into my truck and follow him.
When we get to his place, he heads straight into the bathroom to shower. I steal a T-shirt and slip it on, then I brush my teeth in the half bath on the main level. By the time he exits the bathroom, I’m in bed with my back to him and my heart in my throat. He slides into bed and shuts off the lights.