Bristol looks at her watch, hand dropping back to her side as she meets my eyes. “I have about thirty minutes before I need to prep for surgery.”
“I’ll take every minute I can get,” I reply with a wink. I follow Bristol into her office; the white walls are filled with framed photographs of animals. They aren’t the prebought kind either;you can tell they’re real animals from here that she has matched with the perfect family. It’s so attractive to meet a woman who’s happy with what she’s chosen to do with her life. I couldn’t respect her more. I hope the asshole she’s wrongfully agreed to marry knows what an incredibly rare and perfect woman he has.
Just the thought alone makes rage surge forward. The idea of her going to sleep every night next to another man, that someone else gets to touch her, feel her body against his, know the heaven that’s between her thighs, makes me want to murder him and erase his existence from this plane and the next.
“Are you okay?” Bristol’s sweet voice breaks me out of my dark fog, like a ray of fucking sunshine cutting through the gloom of my sinful thoughts.
“I’m good. Better now.”
“Good, you deserve to be happy, Rhys.” Her words cause me to pause, like there’s a hidden meaning under them. Is she not happy? I study her face while she opens the pastry bag, pulling out her banana muffin and resting it on a napkin.
“Tell me something no one knows.”
“Mmm. That again?”
“Let me be the keeper of your secrets, Bristol.” I watch as she contemplates the question, picking off a piece of her muffin and bringing it to her mouth. Bristol’s lips close around her finger, and my dick perks right up.Fucker. I cough into my hand, crossing my legs and readjusting so she doesn’t see me sporting a hard-on.
“I want to own a rescue. Buy a huge piece of land and be theplace where animals can go to live out the rest of their lives, without fear, without desperation. Just peace.”
“You really are special. The world needs more of you.”
“I seriously doubt that, trust me. I’ve got flaws for days.”
I scoff. “I doubt that. From where I’m sitting, you’re pretty perfect.” Bristol laughs, a deep, self-deprecating laugh that feels like a cut to my heart. How can she not see what I see? Who the fuck is making her feel bad about herself?
“Yeah? Well, apparently, I need to hit up the gym more often to lose weight, take cooler showers, give up my career to be a housewife, and be more available and understanding. So, real mess over here.”
I’ll fucking kill him.
But I can’t let any of that show right now; none of this is her fault. But I fucking knew she wasn’t happy. I knew something was lacking, or she wouldn’t feel this crackling energy between us. Hell, she could be married with ten kids by now, and it still wouldn’t change what’s between us. You can’t fight fate. You can’t fight soulmates.
That motherfucker just put himself at the very top of my kill list. My dad used to say that shit to my mom, and flashbacks teeter at the back of my eyelids.
“You’re fucking worthless,Alice! Fucking pathetic. You’ve got one goddamn job, and you can’t even do that!”
“I’m sorry, Victor. I worked hard on this dinner. I thought you would love it!”
Glasses shatter as my dad swipes his hand over the dinner table, knocking plates, cups, and utensils to the floor. I wince, my nails digging into the edge of my wooden chair. My eyes don’t leave my mom’s, wanting to do anything I can to help her. But I know if I do, she’d never forgive me. She wouldn’t survive seeing me hit. My mom gives me a quick shake of her head, telling me to leave the room. I go to move, anger and fear making my body tremble. Before I can get inches off my seat, strong hands grip the back of my shirt, pulling me back down.
“No! He can watch! He’s too weak! You’ve made our only son weak, you pathetic bitch!”
“He’s not weak, Victor! Please! Just let him go to his room! I’m sorry!”
“You’re sorry, Alice? Sorry? If you were sorry, our food wouldn’t be all over the floor, would it? If you were sorry, you would have made me a steak like I wanted, you would have tried to understand how hard I work for this family, and done something other than being a miserable, sorry excuse for a WIFE!”
I never understoodwhy he didn’t turn his rage on me; he only wanted to beat on her. He enjoyed stomping out her light, and it pissed him off further when he couldn’t extinguish it completely. Blake talking to Bristol like that makes me irate, but without her coming clean about everything, I can’t show up at his house and drag him into the streets to teach him a lesson about what happens when weak-ass men beat on women. So instead, I do the only thing I can right now, despite every muscle in my body telling me to do the latter. I be her friend and listen.
“Do you want those things, Bristol?”
“Hell no. I love my body, despite it not being the version society says is perfect. I’m obsessed with scalding hot showers, despite knowing it wreaks havoc on my skin. I’m obsessed with my career and won’t give it up for anyone, and the idea of being a housewife sounds miserable to me. It would never make me happy.”
“Then that’s the only opinion that matters.” A dark laugh bubbles from her as she presses the lid of the mug against her lips to take a sip. “I’m serious. You don’t need the approval of anyone. You’re a queen, Bristol, own it. Don’t let anyone deter you from what makes you happy.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is. Sacrifices and compromises are necessary sometimes, but why would someone who loves you ask you to change the things you love most about yourself?” She ponders my words, sitting back, muffin long forgotten.
“You need to eat.”
