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)
“Oh, that sounds like fun,” she replies. “Want some company?”
“Are you sure you want to spend your Saturday painting?” I ask, and she laughs.
“That sounds like a perfect day. I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“Why don’t we head out to the diner for some lunch for you and some breakfast for me, and then we can start?”
“See you then,” she confirms, and I hear her yelling Charlie’s name as she hangs up.
Getting out of bed, I head to the bathroom and wash my face before I head downstairs to make myself coffee. The sound of emptiness lets me know my mother is not home. She’s no doubt out and about with Oliver. He’s been holding her at bay, telling her she can start working part-time in two weeks, but in the meantime, she’s been going to all these estate sales trying to find decorations to tie into the new place. So far she’s found a lamp that is now in our living room since she loves it so much.
I get dressed in a pair of old jeans and a tank top before heading out. Autumn is sitting at a table when I get there. We both order breakfast, and forty minutes later, we are spreading the plastic tarp to cover the floor before she starts on the baseboards. “I can’t believe how quickly this was done.”
“I know,” I answer her from across the room, the paint roller in my hand as I roll it up and down on the wall. “The whole town came through for Mom.”
“Gotta love the small town.” She laughs. “What are you going to do when it’s done and your mother is back at work?”
The question in itself makes my stomach turn. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I thought I would come back and just leave after.”
Autumn laughs. “Girl, same.” She moves on her knees as she dips her paintbrush in the paint. “Now here I am with a thriving business, a husband, and a child.” She smiles when she says it. “How are you and Brock?”
I look over at her. “Is there talk about us?” I ask, and she side-eyes me. “Shit… really?”
“He threw down with you in the middle of the parking lot with about twenty people there listening. It’s not like he was keeping it to himself.”
I exhale. “I don’t know,” I finally admit to her. “I mean, I do know. I never stopped loving him even though I convinced myself all these years that I hated him. I think it was easy since I didn’t have to see him every single day. But the minute I finally laid eyes on him in the flesh, I knew I didn’t really hate him. I also knew that I never really hated him to begin with.”
“How are you going to handle that?” she asks, and I shrug. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to answer her. “You still have a ways to go anyway.”
“Do I?” I ask, not really sure. “And what is that going to do? More time spending it here. More time spending it with Brock. More time for me to see my life is empty without this.” I open my arms. “I know two of my neighbors,” I admit to her, “and one because we sometimes bang.” She snort-laughs. “The other one because she complains my wind chimes that I keep outside wake her up at all hours of the night, so I had to bring it inside my bedroom near my window.” I roll the paint roller in the paint. “I haven’t been to my apartment since I came here, and I don’t think anyone noticed. Not one person even texted to check on me or ask me how I am doing.”
“I’m so sorry,” she says softly. “I had a friend when I left here. She sort of saved me, and I will be forever grateful for her.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply quietly, “for turning my back on you when you needed me. For how everything went down.”
“I’m sorry too, for not being brave enough to tell you guys what was going on with Waylon. For not—”
“Hey,” I snap, “you don’t have to apologize for anything. You were not driving that truck. Don’t let him continue to have a hold on you. That was his decision. I knew he wasn’t all there. I mean, I didn’t know he was drinking that night, but he was always so pissed off and reckless. We all knew deep down inside, and none of us said a word.”
She shakes her head. “Now I have to know”—she raises her eyebrows—“have you been with Brock since you’ve been home?”
I think about lying and keeping it more to myself, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a girlfriend to talk about these things with, all I can do is smile shyly. “Yes, and before you ask, even better than before.”