Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
He glances up at me again.
I don’t know what to say. This hurts.
Colten rakes his hands through his hair, leaving it a mess. “Have you ever wanted so badly to not become something or someone, that you’re willing to destroy your own world to prevent it? You’re willing to destroy everyone around you too?”
After a few breaths, I get misty eyed, and recognition flickers in Colten’s eyes. I start to speak, but I can’t, so I swallow back some of the suffocating emotion.
On a slow exhale, he closes his eyes for a beat. “Of course you know,” he whispers.
I let seventeen years pass. I held a grudge for seventeen years. I hated Colten Mosley because … I loved Colten Mosley. That wasn’t hate. I had no idea what true hate felt like until Athelinda shattered my existence into so many unrecognizable pieces that I can’t imagine ever feeling whole again. Still, I’m trying.
My job.
My family.
My friends.
Colten.
They’re pieces I recognize. They belong to Josephine Watts. I need all the pieces of her I can get.
I wipe the corner of my eyes. “Did you tell your mom?”
“Not yet, but she’ll be elated.” He leans forward in his chair and takes my hands, brushing his thumbs along my knuckles. “I think we should set a date.”
This fear is borderline paralyzing. I still have the urge to go hide. Sometimes I have the urge to inflict pain upon myself. The guilt … it fills my lungs like I’m in a constant second stage of drowning. Then there’s the other shoe waiting to drop, the next horrific, century-old vision.
How did I murder those girls?
“Bring up a calendar.” I smile despite the knots in my stomach. I never thought the day would come that I’d have to psych myself up just to be a functioning human being.
Colten’s whole face comes to life. “Yeah?”
I give him the why-not shrug.
He releases my hands and snatches his phone from his desk. “I was originally thinking right after the holidays. I know they’re right around the corner, but …” Giving me a quick glance, his nose wrinkles a bit. He’s bracing for me to object or return some sort of apprehension.
“Perfect,” I say, feigning my best calm confidence. My pulse has to be close to one-forty. Maybe January is too far away. Maybe we should elope immediately. Will it really happen if we wait for me to go out of my mind?
“How about the seventh?”
“The seventh it is.” I have to remind myself not to grit my teeth or clench my fists. I’m getting married on January seventh. Normal, non-serial killers do that sort of stuff. Josephine Watts deserves this. I really, really want to be her.
He taps his phone screen, adding an event to his calendar on that date:
Marrying the girl of my dreams.
“Listen,” he says, head still bowed to his phone screen. “When we tell my mom and she asks about your engagement ring, tell her it’s being sized.”
“I don’t have an engagement ring, probably because I proposed to you.”
“Whoa … what?” His head snaps up. “Not true. Not true at all. I proposed to you at the donut shop.”
“Oh? Was that really a proposal?” My lips twist to the side. “Maybe, but I broke off our engagement after I got back from California. Two nights ago, I proposed to you.”
Tiny wrinkles line his forehead. “You thought ‘Get me to the altar. Make sure I’m wearing white but I don’t look ridiculous. Don’t take no for an answer. Then just … hold on to me,’ was a proposal?”
Pushing off his desk, I step between his legs and lace my hands through his hair while his hands grip the back of my legs. “It was an epic proposal. The kind only one’s soulmate would give. It wasn’t predictable. It wasn’t a cliche. It was all heart. It was twenty-six years of friendship finally taking that next … beautiful … step.”
Colten’s gaze locks with mine. It, too, is beautiful. “Just to be really clear, in case you missed it a few minutes earlier … I fucking love you so much.”
I make the slow descent to his mouth. “You, my future husband, are something to behold. And I fucking love you so much too.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
My parents react to our engagement news just as Colten predicts: he’s perfect, I’m perfect, we are even more perfect together.
Becca will find out soon. It’s been a week since telling my parents and swearing them to secrecy. My mom is dying to plan this wedding with Becca. I’ve booked another session with Dr. Byrd. I’m not sure if that makes me responsible, proactive with my mental health, or if I’m admitting that I’m mentally slipping.
“I’ll stay in the car,” I say when Colten pulls up to Katy’s house to pick up Reagan for the big surprise.
“You should meet Katy. She’ll want to meet you since you’re now a big part of Reagan’s life.”