Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“I don’t know, honey,” I say, my own heart breaking all over again. I thought I was over him, but I was wrong. All the hatred I have for him is there, but so is all the love I felt for him. “Maybe he missed home.”
“He broke our family apart,” she says. “Mom was a mess when he left. She was there, but a piece of her was gone, and no matter how many times I tried to tell her that he would come back, I would still hear her cry when she thought she was alone. I would hear my dad hold her and tell her that he would be back. He did that. He took that from her, from me, from Keith, and from Toby.”
I don’t know why I do it. I don’t know what possesses me to say what comes out next, but I do it. “He was hurt that he was lied to. He was just hurt. You know how many times you say stuff when you are hurt, but you don’t mean it.”
“Yeah,” Chelsea says, “but after an hour, I’m sorry about it. I don’t disappear for five fucking years.”
“Chelsea,” I say her name sternly. “A lady never swears,” I say, and she rolls her eyes.
We pull up to the house, and I see that Keith is just getting home. He throws his bike on the grass, then looks over at us while taking off his helmet. He walks over to us and sees that Chelsea’s eyes are all puffy and her nose is red.
“What happened to you?” he says. “Is it that time of the month?”
“Shut up.” She pushes him as he laughs and runs up the steps.
“Mom!” he shouts, walking into the house, and I’m shocked she’s still there. “Chelsea has her period, and she’s crying. Miss Emily had to drive her home.”
“I hate him,” she says from beside me. The door swings open, and Savannah walks out with a smile. The minute she sees us, her phone rings, and she looks down.
“Mom,” Chelsea calls out her name, but she just holds up a hand telling her to hold on.
“Hey, Casey,” she says, looking at us, and then her hand goes to the railing. Her legs give out, and she sits on the step. “Where is he?” She listens. “No, I’m home. We canceled.” She looks at me with all the tears in the world. “Okay,” she whispers, a sob ripping out of her while the phone falls from her hand. Chelsea runs over to her and takes her in her arms as she sits beside her.
“Dad!” she shouts, and Beau comes running out. “Dad!”
“What’s the matter?” He runs to his wife and squats down in front of her. “What happened?”
She looks at him with all the love in the world. The two of them have been best friends since they were small and then played cat and mouse until they were forced to get married. She puts her hand on his face. “He’s back.” Her body shakes with sobs. “He’s come home.”
Beau looks at her and then looks at me, and all I can do is nod. He looks back at his Savannah and Chelsea.
“I saw him.” Chelsea now says something, and Savannah looks at her.
“Was he okay?” she asks, hanging on Chelsea’s every word. “Did he look okay? Did he look like he’s been hurt?”
“He looks the same,” Chelsea says, and I want to tell her that she’s wrong. He’s different; his arms are bigger. His face is more chiseled; his eyes are darker and hold secrets. He has a couple of scars on his arms, and his hair is shorter. He may look the same, but he's not the same. I look down and blink away the tears that are now threatening to come out.
Savannah looks at me, and she holds out her hand for Beau to help her up. He holds out his hand for her, and she grabs it. She walks over to me with Beau helping her the whole time. If I didn’t know she was Ethan’s mom, I would think she was his sister. She hasn’t aged at all. Sure, her hair has a bit more gray, and her eyes have lost a bit of their spark, but she looks the same as she did in his baby pictures. “He’s home,” she says to me, and my heart shatters. “He’s come home.”
Taking a huge breath, I lock my feelings away for at least the next five minutes until I can escape this scene. “I’m happy for you,” I say, but my voice cracks, and she grabs my hand. “Happy that he’s come home.”
“He’s back,” she tells me, and I look at her.
“I can’t go back there,” I say, and this time, the tears fall. It’s like the dam has been broken. “I can’t go back there. I won’t survive it.”