Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
I see the very moment his heart shatters, and when he regretfully nods, my heart shatters right along with his. “I would never lie to you, Harper, and I’m not going to start now in order to protect your feelings. Just give me a chance to explain everything so you’ll understand.”
The tears I’d worked so hard to hold back begin welling in my eyes, and I shake my head, his words hurting more than the fists that pummeled my bare skin. “Holy shit,” I breathe, gently pushing him away from me, his insistence to stand anywhere but in my corner killing me, just as I knew he would. “So this is what it feels like.”
“What what feels like?”
“What it feels like to be vulnerable with someone, to trust them and let them hold your heart in the palm of their hands, only to stand by helplessly and watch as they destroy it.”
“Doll . . .”
I shake my head, hastily wiping the tears as they roll down my cheeks before reaching for the door and opening it wide. “Please go,” I say, my voice shaking as my knees threaten to give out. His inability to understand and believe me is the most agonizing betrayal I’ve ever felt. “You and me, this is over now.”
He watches me with that same agony reflected in his haunting stare, and when he steps back into me and gently drops his lips to my cheek, I want to crumble. “I’ll leave, doll. I’ll give you your space, but let’s get one thing straight. You and me, this is far from over,” he tells me, shifting toward the open door and giving me just a moment to breathe. “You can’t just turn this off like we never existed. It’s too deep now. Your heart beats in tandem with mine, and no matter how much you want to deny it, you can’t. Not anymore. I told you once before that if you’re going up in flames, that I’ll step right into the fire with you, and I meant that. So when you’re ready, you call me, and I’ll be right here.”
I can’t respond over the growing lump in my throat, and I simply watch as he turns away and strides right out my door. I watch every step he takes, and the more distance he puts between us, the more the open wound right in the center of my chest begins to ache. Then as he disappears out of sight, I fall to my knees, my body completely numb as my head falls into my hands and the tears begin streaming down my face.
35
HARPER-RAYN
Heavy thumping against the door has my eyes springing open into the bright sunshine of Tuesday morning, and I immediately groan, pulling my blanket up over my head and realizing that I got played . . . again.
My stalker never showed, and that’s just one more time that Knight gets to say that I’m obviously crazy.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter to myself, cringing as I drag my hand over my swollen eyes and press a little too hard on the lingering bruises. Though at this point, I don’t really think they’re lingering. They’re basically a permanent fixture on my face. No sign that they’re going away anytime soon. I look like Frankenstein’s monster.
I spent the majority of my night crying into a tub of Oreo ice cream, and at twenty-eight years old, I can finally understand what it feels like to experience heartbreak. Sure, I had my fair share of breakups over the years, but I’ve always been the asshole causing the hurt. I’ve never been on this side of the pain before. It’s a deep, soul-crushing ache, and without a doubt, I know this is the kind of pain that will leave scars.
There are so many things I could have dealt with in a relationship. Not seeing eye to eye on everything isn’t a problem. It’s human nature, but this was too big. Knowing that the time I was in his arms, crying against his chest as the agony of performing Laith’s autopsy crippled me, he was assuming I was going crazy. Or when I was bleeding in his bathroom after having my wrists and ankles bound and a knife sliced through my skin like butter, he was wondering which asylum he should stick me in. It kills me.
I thought he was better than that.
My heavy eyes close, and I do what I can to block out the pain. It took me all night to finally get to sleep, and when I did, I think it was from pure exhaustion, not because I was magically capable of turning off the pain. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to turn it off. This pain will follow me around for the rest of my life. And now at every family function, I will see him. I’ll have to watch as he eventually moves past this and lets someone else in. I’ll have to sit idly by as he brings her to all of Mom’s ridiculous dinner parties, and then one day, I’ll receive an invitation in the mail that will gut me.