Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“This is Chase’s house,” Blake continues. “He and Summer built it not long ago.”
“It’s a beautiful spot,” I reply, taking it all in. It’s truly stunning, with gorgeous views of the mountains.
“Yeah, Chase chose well when he decided to build here,” Blake agrees and pulls to a stop at a little trailhead. “This is us.”
I nod and step out of the car. I didn’t bring my pack with me, but Blake has one we put snacks and water in, and once he has that strapped to his back, we set off through the woods.
“This is about a five-mile loop,” he says. “But we can turn around anytime.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure him.
It’s an overcast spring day, but it’s not too cold, and it smells so freaking good in these trees. Pine and earth and fresh air mingle to create Mother Nature’s perfume, and I absolutely love it.
“It smells good out here,” I say, taking a deep breath.
Blake nods and takes my hand, links our fingers and brushes his thumb over the back of my knuckles. He’s waiting. He’s being patient and sweet because that’s who Blake is. I know he’s not Nathan. He’s absolutely nothing like that piece of shit. So why do I get those intrusive thoughts that Blake will behave the way my ex did?
Trauma response? Maybe. It’s fucking ridiculous. One more thing to be ashamed of.
“I wish I could forget him,” I begin quietly. “Like, just give myself selective amnesia or something and erase those few years of my life from existence.”
“I think we all have moments we would use an eraser on if we could.”
I nod and lick my lips, thinking it over. Just like always when I think about that time in my life, I start to feel nauseous, but I swallow it back and lift my chin.
I can do this.
“First of all, what I’m going to tell you is stuff that I’ve never told anyone. Not even Ava.”
“Why?”
I frown up at him, and he leans down to kiss my forehead. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, why didn’t you tell your best friend in the world what was going on, sugar?”
“Because I’m mortified. I’m so fucking embarrassed. I don’t want to tell you either, but if we’re going to make a go of this, you need to know because I have bad moments sometimes, and that’s not fair to do to you without giving you some context.”
His hand tightens, and he stops us cold.
“Should he be in jail, Harper?”
I soften and lean in to hug him. “No. He never hit me or did anything illegal.”
He relaxes a bit, kisses my head, and we start walking again.
“I met him at the hospital where I worked in Portland. He’s not in health care. He was visiting his sister, who had a baby in the NICU in a situation similar to Bryce’s.”
Blake nods, listening. His face is calm and relaxed, and his hand is firm but not too tight in mine.
He’s okay. I need Blake to be okay because, by the time I get to the end of this, I might not be.
“He seemed nice. Pretty normal. His family didn’t like me, and I know now that they wouldn’t like anyone. Nathan—never Nate. He doesn’t do nicknames—was the golden boy. The perfect son, the perfect everything. So no one would ever live up to their standards for him. Anyway, he asked me out, I said yes, and we dated for a while. It was casual and normal, and I never even fucking suspected that he was a piece of shit.”
“That’s not uncommon,” Blake reminds me, pushing a low-hanging branch out of my way.
“No, it’s not. He was the sweetest human being. I’m not kidding. He never lost his temper, he doted on me, and he was understanding of my work schedule. It was way too good to be true, but I ate it up. When you have an early childhood full of neglect and being invisible, and a handsome, attentive man turns his attention to you, you just eat that shit up.”
Blake nods and still seems okay, so I keep going.
“We’d been together for about a year when he proposed, and I said yes.”
That has my man stopping short and scowling down at me, his jaw tense.
“You were going to marry him.” It’s not a question, and it makes me bite my lip in apprehension.
“Well, for a minute, that was the plan. But—”
He frames my face and kisses me hard as if he’s claiming me and reminding me that I’m his. And it feels so damn good that I lean into him and hold on.
“I don’t have to tell this story,” I whisper when he pulls away and still looks upset.
“I’m okay.” He takes a breath and kisses my forehead. “I didn’t realize you’d been engaged, and, well. Turns out I’m a jealous fucker. That’s new. Keep going.”