desolate (Grace Trilogy, Book One) by Autumn Grey

Author:Autumn Grey [Grey, Autumn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Grace Trilogy, Book One
Publisher: AG
Published: 2018-09-20T18:30:00+00:00

His words steal the oxygen from my lungs, and the steel bars around the cage housing my heart liquefy a little.

“Bewitched you with my womanly charms?” I joke, closing my eyes and brushing my nose against his.

“You sure did.” He chuckles softly but turns somber fast. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I do,” I say, pressing my lips on the edge of his mouth, forcing myself not to go farther. If he wants this, then the decision has to be his. “Maybe we should stop spending too much time together. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult this is for you.”

He swallows, his gaze veering off to my left shoulder, probably considering my words. “Maybe, yeah.” His arms tighten around me for just a few beats before they fall away.

Stepping back, he grabs his shoes and hands me mine. We continue walking, the air between us sparking with tension. How does someone come back from a revelation like this?

I clear my throat and attempt to form my thoughts. As much as I enjoy spending time with Sol, the constant tugging of the invisible thread connecting us becomes too much sometimes. It’s like we’re two magnets, drawn to each other the way only opposite poles can. We pull apart, but the magnetic field between us always draws us back together. It’s inevitable, like the rising and setting of the sun.

I sigh. Time to change the subject.

I’ve never told anyone about my father. Maybe talking to someone else other than my mom will help ease this hurt, this feeling . . . as if something is missing in my life. I need to get it out before the words roll back down my throat and churn acid into my stomach.

“When I was six, my mom finally told me—after I bombarded her with questions about my father’s whereabouts—he left before I was born. So cliché, right?” I laugh, but it sounds bitter even to my own ears. “My mom was eighteen. She was due to start her undergraduate program at Brown University, but then, I happened. My father, whoever that person is, packed and left town, leaving my mom alone and pregnant.

“Growing up without a father wasn’t easy, I won’t lie. Every night before I went to sleep, I’d get down on my knees next to my bed and pray to God he’d bring him back into my life. I’d write letters to Santa, asking him for one thing only—my dad. Every Christmas Day, I woke up early, hoping to find my father sitting in the rocking chair by the window, waiting for us.” After a moment of silence, I add, “It never happened.”

I shake my head and smile at the memory of the five-year-old version of me, so hopeful and innocent.

“I watched other kids bring their parents to school events. Sometimes, my mom couldn’t get time off from work. She had just gotten this new job as a maid for some rich guy, and she didn’t want to risk losing it. So I had no one there.

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