Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Ryan and Camille stayed friends with them, so they must have been at the wedding,” Deacon said. “It would have been the first time Derek had seen or heard from either of them in a decade.”
“Oh my god.” Now it all made sense. “Every time Derek had to do something for the wedding, he was always in a really sour mood. Now I know why. Because he had to see Kevin.” Despite the way Derek had hurt me, I felt so terrible for him, imagining him having to experience that kind of betrayal and humiliation, to know that the two people he loved most stabbed him in the back like that.
“It’s hard to believe, but Derek used to be a really upbeat, kind, trusting person,” Deacon said. “He was affectionate, sweet, open, and vulnerable. And then that happened, and he just… It changed his entire foundation. He never recovered. He never…came back.”
“Until you,” Cleo said. “We started to get him back. We were so happy that he found you, that he was happy again, that he was finally able to trust somebody again.”
Now I understood why he was so sensitive to my shortcomings. My actions weren’t egregious, but they were enough to make him uncomfortable, to make him question things. And then seeing the people who’d scarred him just made everything worse. “I wish he had told me this.”
“It’s really hard for him,” Cleo said. “It still eats away at him …clearly.”
“Yeah.” Now I understood why he spent the last decade having meaningless flings and going to stupid parties. I understood why he was an asshole, because he refused to feel anything. He threw himself into work, the only thing he would allow himself to care about. When shit hit the fan, he went back to that, stopped caring about everything—even me.
“We’ll talk to him,” Deacon said. “We’ll figure this out.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do. It took me six months to get him to that level in the first place, and I don’t think it can happen again. And even if it could, I don’t think I’d even try because he would just go backward the second there’s a bump in the road. That trust is broken. He hurt me. There’s no going back now. It’s been too long. I told him I wouldn’t wait around for him and he shouldn’t take too long to come to his senses, and that fell on deaf ears.” I looked down into my mug. “I loved that man with everything I had. He’s the love of my life—he’ll always be the love of my life. He was a blessing for both Lizzie and me. But…he’s gone. That man doesn’t exist anymore. I’m sorry, but he’s not coming back.”
5
Derek
It was Christmas Eve morning when Dad texted me. We’re here to pick you up.
My eyebrows furrowed as I read the message. I wasn’t even at my home right now. I was at the warehouse outside the city. I thought I was driving up alone?
If you were driving up alone, you would be home right now, wouldn’t you?
Fuck. He knew.
We’ll be here when you get back.
“Jesus.” I packed up my stuff and drove back to the city, taking almost an hour because traffic was crazy since everyone was traveling right now. I parked in the underground garage then rode the elevator to my floor. When I approached the door, I knew they were inside, so I didn’t bother to put the key in the lock.
It was already unlocked.
With my satchel over my shoulder, I stepped inside my home, seeing my dad sitting on the couch. Mom was in the kitchen, cooking. He leaned back against the cushions, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, his elbow on the armrest and his knuckles propped against his cheek. He gave me a look I couldn’t describe because I’d never seen it before.
Mom didn’t say something cheery from the kitchen. She just kept working.
Dad didn’t greet me either. He didn’t rise from the couch and embrace me. He didn’t say Merry Christmas.
I sighed before I set my satchel on the end table and stripped off my jacket and laid it on top. “I haven’t even packed, so you guys should go ahead—”
“Sit.” My dad was not in the mood for my excuses.
I felt like a boy again. It was like I’d broken the rules I knew weren’t supposed to be broken. There was no way to get out of it, so I moved to the other couch and sat across from him. It was best just to get this over with, to rip off the bandage and move on. The sounds of pots and pans in use were still audible from the kitchen as Mom continued to make me something before we got on the road.