Always In: The Shore Series Book 2 Read Online Free Page B
like she was in a lot of pain, just struggling with getting around. I wanted to go to her, hold her, help her. I wanted to remind her just how much I love her.
"Don't you think I know that, Porter. Tomorrow morning when I’m dealing with my hangover, the pain will come back in full force. At least when I’m fucking drinking like a sailor it's a temporary fix."
"But it's not a temporary fix, Cruz. You're lucky you haven't lost your job. You're getting the rep of a drunk around here and whether you want to hear it or not it's the damn truth."
Porter yells at me and I know it's for my own good, but I can't help it. Sometimes I just want to run away from it all. I pray—which I have been doing since Harlow was in the accident—I pray that I forget it all happened, that I didn't fall in love with her, that what we shared didn't happen, but it did. My prayers mean shit.
My stomach churns and I want to throw up. I swallow and hope I don't puke in front of these guys. I ask the question I don't want to ask, but if I don't the question will spin in my head and takeover any other thought I will have until I fall asleep.
"Did she...ask about me tonight? Did she ask where I was? You can tell me the truth."
They look at each other as I turn from the water to look at them. I look at all of them, all six of them. I really should stop drinking so much. Maybe they're right.
Max comes over and firmly grasps my shoulder. "Yea, she did. She asked about you, but I won't sugar coat it for you. That's all she said."
"And what was your response?"
"We didn't want her to worry because she has enough on her plate so we told her you were getting by."
I have to laugh at that. Getting by. Seriously?
I pace around the asphalt, the sea air invading my lungs as I breathe in deep, almost hyperventilating. Because I'm not getting by.
"That was a good lie to tell, Max, ’cause I’m not getting by, I’m hardly moving. I’m hardly functioning. Do you know what that was like when she finally opened her eyes and I was kissing her face and crying telling her how happy I was that she was awake and...and calling her baby...and telling her how much I loved her and that I would always protect her and never let her out of my sight again?”
Then the vomit comes up and I spew on the ground below. I swipe at my mouth and sink to my knees, crying like a bitch. Porter and Max fall beside me.
They rub my back and for some reason I welcome it. I feel their hands, and I feel their concern through my sweat-soaked shirt.
I still feel things. Who knew?
"Do you...have you any idea what it was like to hear her try and scream for help when I was doing that? She hardly had a voice. But the fear was in her eyes. The eyes I fucking fell in fucking love with. Do you have any idea what it was like to be dragged out of that room by three large orderlies? Then not be allowed to see her for days and days?"
I can still feel it, still see the nightmare when I close my eyes.
Max rests his chin on my shoulder and I swing my feet from under me to sit on my ass. I grasp my face in my hands and cry. I cry from losing the love of my life, I cry because I can't get her back, I cry because she can't remember that she was the love of my life. I choke back a sob.
"I...I just, I never knew what love was until she came along. I know I have to let her live her life and get better, but I can't give up knowing what the doctors said. She could still get her memory back."
I still have the hope.
"Cruz, buddy. What if it never comes back? What if it's a year from now or a few years from now? Then what? You're not going to move on? You're going to just sit here day after day, getting drunk, and every summer if she comes to Sandy Cove you'll continue to stalk her? What kind of life is that?"
I stand up, stumbling on my way up, truly drunk but getting more sober by the second as my mind starts coming back.
"What kind of life am I going to have? Jesus, Porter, what kind of life am I
"Don't you think I know that, Porter. Tomorrow morning when I’m dealing with my hangover, the pain will come back in full force. At least when I’m fucking drinking like a sailor it's a temporary fix."
"But it's not a temporary fix, Cruz. You're lucky you haven't lost your job. You're getting the rep of a drunk around here and whether you want to hear it or not it's the damn truth."
Porter yells at me and I know it's for my own good, but I can't help it. Sometimes I just want to run away from it all. I pray—which I have been doing since Harlow was in the accident—I pray that I forget it all happened, that I didn't fall in love with her, that what we shared didn't happen, but it did. My prayers mean shit.
My stomach churns and I want to throw up. I swallow and hope I don't puke in front of these guys. I ask the question I don't want to ask, but if I don't the question will spin in my head and takeover any other thought I will have until I fall asleep.
"Did she...ask about me tonight? Did she ask where I was? You can tell me the truth."
They look at each other as I turn from the water to look at them. I look at all of them, all six of them. I really should stop drinking so much. Maybe they're right.
Max comes over and firmly grasps my shoulder. "Yea, she did. She asked about you, but I won't sugar coat it for you. That's all she said."
"And what was your response?"
"We didn't want her to worry because she has enough on her plate so we told her you were getting by."
I have to laugh at that. Getting by. Seriously?
I pace around the asphalt, the sea air invading my lungs as I breathe in deep, almost hyperventilating. Because I'm not getting by.
"That was a good lie to tell, Max, ’cause I’m not getting by, I’m hardly moving. I’m hardly functioning. Do you know what that was like when she finally opened her eyes and I was kissing her face and crying telling her how happy I was that she was awake and...and calling her baby...and telling her how much I loved her and that I would always protect her and never let her out of my sight again?”
Then the vomit comes up and I spew on the ground below. I swipe at my mouth and sink to my knees, crying like a bitch. Porter and Max fall beside me.
They rub my back and for some reason I welcome it. I feel their hands, and I feel their concern through my sweat-soaked shirt.
I still feel things. Who knew?
"Do you...have you any idea what it was like to hear her try and scream for help when I was doing that? She hardly had a voice. But the fear was in her eyes. The eyes I fucking fell in fucking love with. Do you have any idea what it was like to be dragged out of that room by three large orderlies? Then not be allowed to see her for days and days?"
I can still feel it, still see the nightmare when I close my eyes.
Max rests his chin on my shoulder and I swing my feet from under me to sit on my ass. I grasp my face in my hands and cry. I cry from losing the love of my life, I cry because I can't get her back, I cry because she can't remember that she was the love of my life. I choke back a sob.
"I...I just, I never knew what love was until she came along. I know I have to let her live her life and get better, but I can't give up knowing what the doctors said. She could still get her memory back."
I still have the hope.
"Cruz, buddy. What if it never comes back? What if it's a year from now or a few years from now? Then what? You're not going to move on? You're going to just sit here day after day, getting drunk, and every summer if she comes to Sandy Cove you'll continue to stalk her? What kind of life is that?"
I stand up, stumbling on my way up, truly drunk but getting more sober by the second as my mind starts coming back.
"What kind of life am I going to have? Jesus, Porter, what kind of life am I
Readers choose
Daniel White
Ava Claire
Bonnie Bryant
Louis Auchincloss
Paulo Levy
Keith Donohue
Rebecca Shaw
Freaks, Shrieks
Lori Foster
Mishka Shubaly