Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I walk to her and give her a hug. We hear the door open, and both look over at Oliver. “I’ve had it,” he huffs out, “we’re done.”
I open my eyes wide. “Oliver,” my mother yelps, her face showing she’s worried.
“No, Maddie.” He shakes his head. “Enough is enough. We are going to stop this fucking shit right now. I love your mother.” He looks at me. “More now than I did back then. Never stopped loving her, and she knows it. She knows how I feel for her. I’m tired of living like we aren’t together,” he snaps. “So from now on, we aren’t. You are going to move in with me, or I’ll move in here. I don’t care. But we are moving in with each other, and we are also getting married.”
I gasp but not as loud as my mother. “Yeah, you heard me.”
I look at my mother and expect her to tell him to go fly a kite, but instead, she just shrugs. “Okay, fine,” she concedes, as if he’s forcing her to go out with him, “but we are not going to leave my daughter by herself.”
“Your daughter is thirty. She’s fine.” He looks at me. “And you will be more than welcome to live wherever we are.”
“Your daughter is also leaving,” I interject. “You guys can hash out the details on when you are getting married.” I smile at him. “I’m not calling you Dad.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to, but I’d be honored.” I smile at him and secretly thank him.
“You guys celebrate,” I tell them. “I’m going to go have dinner with a friend.”
“Is that what you are calling him?” my mother asks, and I hold my hand up and wiggle my fingers before walking out of the house.
I look at the car and then look up at the sky, opting to walk to his house. I pull up the text thread on my phone.
Me: Hey
I press send as I walk down the street. The phone rings in my hand, and I look down to see he’s calling me.
“Hello.” I put the phone to my ear.
“Are you calling me to cancel?” I hear him moving around on his end.
“No.” I laugh. “I’m just letting you know I may get there earlier than five, but not sure since I’m walking there.”
“You’re walking to my house?” he asks, and I hear the door shut.
“Yeah. It’s a nice day, and I figured I’d walk there.”
“Okay.” I hear a car door slam. “See you soon, then.”
“See you soon,” I repeat, disconnecting and wondering if he’s just leaving the shop and heading home. I’m about to cross the street when his truck pulls up right beside me. I look into the open passenger door window, seeing his hair wet from his shower. “What are you doing here?”
“Get in.” He reaches over and pushes open the door. I shake my head and climb into the truck. “Hi,” he says, and I see he’s wearing gym shorts and a white T-shirt that has drops of wetness on his chest from his hair.
“Were you in the shower?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“No, I was just getting dressed,” he states as he makes his way to his house. We pull into the driveway at the same time as a car pulls up to the sidewalk. I step out of the truck and round the front of it, standing by Brock, who goes tight.
“Fuck,” he hisses and then looks at me. I raise my eyebrows when I see Winston get out of his car, taking off his sunglasses.
“Well, well, well,” he says, and his voice makes my skin crawl, “isn’t this a nice surprise?”
“Thought I made it clear the last time, I don’t want you here or on my property,” Brock declares and turns to look at me. “Let’s go inside.”
“We need to talk,” Winston insists. I walk up the steps with Brock and watch him slam the door behind us.
“What is going on?” I ask him, looking out the window at Winston walking back to his car.
“That,” he spits, putting his hands on his hips, “is the aftermath of them trying to fuck me over.”
I stare at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Before you left, they brought me in to help the lead architect,” he explains as I watch him. “Well, after you left and the truth came out and they were done with me, they stole my designs and then fired me.” I gasp. “Except they fucking put more apartments than the foundation was built for. Now it’s not only cracking, it’s sinking.”
“So what do they want from you?”
“To tell them how to fix it,” he states, and my eyes go big.
“Can you fix it?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“The only way to fix it is to demolish it and start over, and they don’t want to do that.”