Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
At some point, Pipsqueak had shown up, but I wasn’t sure she knew I was home. She used the front door now that she had a key, and she was busy doing her thing in the kitchen.
I kind of wished the darkness would keep me hidden.
I took a swig of my drink and slouched back in my chair.
Abortion. Go on with my life like this never happened.
Or…
Become a single father and raise a child on my own.
I snorted quietly. What the fuck was I supposed to do with a kid?
Abortion. Go on with my life like this never—except, I’d never be able to forget it. Just like I’d never forget being five years old and making it my goal in life to ensure that Finn survived our mother.
I could feel that dormant urge being brought back to life, and it scared the shit out of me. The urge to protect, the need to be important to someone else. But a child? A baby? As a parent? I blew out a heavy breath and emptied my glass. Then I lit up a new cigarette, having forgotten the other, and took a drag. The old one had fizzled out in the ashtray.
If I went through with this, I’d be solely responsible for another person’s well-being. They would be mine. And that thought caused something to flutter and clench in my stomach. I swallowed hard and entertained the idea for a brief second. I’d be part of something I’d never experienced before. I’d share a bond with someone who’d be completely reliant on me.
The rational side of me was quick to interject with the fact that I was listing the wrong reasons to have a kid. Because they were. They had to be. One didn’t become a parent because they wanted to feel needed or loved. But fucking hell, imagine the feeling… I mean, technically, I couldn’t. The idea, though.
I remembered a time when I considered a smile from Finn the best thing that could happen. If I managed to squeeze out a giggle, it’d make my year. Too many times, it’d been after a beating. We’d been allowed to lock ourselves into our room, mainly because our mother didn’t want to see our faces, and I’d put all my energy into comforting Finn. Distracting him, cheering him up. Funny expressions, tales of faraway adventures… He’d liked it when we’d hid under his bed and pretended it was our fort.
I took a pull from my smoke as my vision blurred.
Fuck, how I missed him.
I jumped slightly when I heard the door slide open, and I was quick to wipe my eyes.
“Oh my God, Avery?” Pipsqueak walked farther out and closed the door behind her. “I didn’t know you were home. I saw the cigarette glowing and some shadow, so I wondered if Darius was here.” She hugged herself, probably because it was pretty cold, and sat down across from me. “Since when do you smoke?”
I cleared my throat and straightened a little. “It’s just sometimes. When I’m drunk or I’ve had a bad day.”
“Oh.” She eyed the bottle of bourbon. “Are you drunk?”
I furrowed my brow. “No?”
She was too cute. She had some shimmering powder and a bit of chocolate smeared on her cheek.
“So, you’ve had a bad day,” she deduced. I’d walked right into that one. “I’ve never seen you cry before.”
“Christ.” I took a last drag from the smoke and reached forward to stub it out in the ashtray. “You don’t point that out to people, Pipsqueak.”
I was too drained and fucked in the head to feel embarrassed. There were no tears to dry, so I guessed my eyes were bloodshot.
“Sorry,” she replied automatically. “I forget to put on my human filter around you. But now I’m worried. What’s wrong? Can I help?”
I shook my head tiredly, and first things first. “I don’t want you to filter yourself around me. Forget what I said.”
She stared at me, waiting. The worry was evident in her soft green gaze, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to distract her.
What the fuck could I say, though? What did I want to say?
It was one thing for her to bring her teenage troubles to me. A whole other for me to unburden my grown-up clusterfuck on her.
That said, I needed a fresh perspective, and I could count on her honesty.
“Do you think I’d make a good dad?” I wondered.
As soon as the words left my dumb-ass mouth, my stomach became a knotted mess, and I drank to make it go away.
“Yes,” she responded frankly. “Why?”
“How do you know?” I pressed.
She made a strangled sound and shrugged, then started ticking things off her fingers. “You’re caring, you pay attention to the people you care for, you go out of your way to make sure someone’s needs are met, and you’re very protective.”