Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I swallow as the words rip through me. Let him go. Just the thought hurts me. Not seeing him smile, hurts my heart; it’s an ache that goes deep, an ache that no matter how many times I rub my chest I don’t think it can go away. She sees me rubbing my chest.
“That’s love.” She grabs my shoulders as she pulls me to her and I bask in the security of my mother’s hug. I’ve felt this security with three people in my life—my mother, my brother, and Cooper. And now the same security comes from Max.
I struggle with my thoughts throughout the whole game, the lingering feelings staying there in the back of my head during the whole week leading up to the gala. I’ve been going nuts this whole week, so I haven’t seen Max that much. Till the night of the gala when I’m rushing around my bedroom in my strapless bra and matching panties as I get ready. Max is picking me up in ten minutes and I haven’t put on my dress yet. My hair is tied at the side in a messy side bun with loose, wavy strands falling out. I take the one of a kind dress off the hanger. It’s a beautiful soft pink, fully embroidered. It dips low in the front and comes in at the waist tight and then flairs off with ten layers of crinoline. I step into my dark pink satin high heels as the doorbell rings. I grab my shawl and hold the back of my dress as I walk downstairs to the door, opening it to the back of Max, since he is looking out onto the road. His black tux falls perfectly as he turns around and sees me. He’s beautiful. I know we shouldn’t call a man beautiful, but he is. He looks at me and grins as I turn around and ask him, “Can you zip me?”
He comes in, closing the door as he zips the zipper to the middle of my back, then he leans down and kisses my shoulder. I turn around to face him and I see the circles under his eyes.
“Did you not sleep good last night?” I ask him. With everything going on with getting things ready, we haven’t really been together this last week.
“I know we have to go.” He looks at the limo parked outside. “And I know I’m going to sound like a needy bitch right now, but”—he struggles with his words—“is this it? You’re distant and I know you said it’s because of the gala and the stress but”—he shakes his head—“if you need to end this or just need to walk away…” He swallows and I see his Adam’s apple move. “I get it.”
My hands get clammy as I open and close them. My heart beats so hard, I feel like it’s going to beat out of my chest. “What?”
“You’ve been distant since Thanksgiving.” He places his hands in his pockets. “I know your family means a lot to you,” he starts and his voice goes low. “I get it. Trust me, if anyone is going to understand anything about family loyalty it’s me. So I get it if it’s too much.” He shakes his head. “So if this is the end or whatever, just know that I get it.”
“The end,” I whisper as tears come to my eyes. “Are you breaking up with me?” My shawl that I was holding with my purse falls to the floor and my hand flies to my stomach because I really think I’m going to be sick. I look down at my hand that is shaking as all the memories fly through my mind. The nights on the couch making out, laughing, watching television. The nights of us cooking together. The nights of us forgetting about cooking because our hands were too busy on each other. The nights of falling asleep in his arms. The mornings—the lazy ones, the rushed ones. It’s like a running movie clip in my mind. “I’m going to be sick,” I say as he reaches out to me and I yank my hand away from him. “You need to go.”
“Angel.”
“No!” I yell at him, the tears falling over my lids. “You don’t get to fucking break up with me and then call me fucking angel.” I use my thumb to catch the next tear that is threatening to fall.
“You’re the one breaking up with me!” he roars out. “You’re the one who is distant and not even there. Making excuses and shit.” He points at me.
“Me, what are you talking about? I’ve had a lot on my plate, Max, and a lot rides on tonight.”
“Well, what the fuck do I know?” He throws his hands up. “I’ve never done this, Allison, so when you started pulling away—”