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)
“Now, you can let it out,” she urges me, and I actually put my hands on my knees.
“I shouldn’t let it get to me,” I tell the floor. “It’s not like I didn’t sleep with anyone after him.” Autumn doesn’t say a word. She knows I have to talk this out with myself. “I have a neighbor who I fuck monthly. I’ve had a couple of guys who I’ve hooked up with. It shouldn’t fucking bother me.” I get up and feel the tears. “Why does it fucking bother me?”
“Because you love him, and the thought of him with someone else is just too much,” she says. “Just like I’m pretty sure if you told him that you have a neighbor you fuck monthly, he would probably burn down your building.” I can’t help but laugh at that. “I know how you feel,” she finally shares softly. “Charlie pretty much fucked the entire town.” I gasp. “Yeah, so you have only one woman; I have them on every single corner.”
“What is going on?” Charlie walks into the office and sees us.
“Nothing. I was telling her what a womanizer you were.” She glares at him, and I have to roll my lips. “And I’m constantly face-to-face with all the women you banged.” His face goes white. “Yeah, exactly. Don’t think I don’t see them batting their eyes at you.”
“What happened from the time you left the bakery until now?” He puts his hands on his hips. “And how did it become my fault?” He looks at me, and I fill him in. “He never loved her,” Charlie reveals quietly, “not for a second, and everyone knew it, including Karla. She just didn’t want to see it.”
“We all have our pasts.” I look at him. “The question is, can we get past them?”
Chapter Thirty
BROCK
“I love you, baby girl,” I say, giving her a hug and kissing the top of her head. “I’ll see you next week, and I’ll talk to you tonight when you get home from school.”
“Okay, Daddy.” Her voice is lower than it was five minutes ago in the car as she sang out at the top of her lungs about Vermont and seasons of sticks. She hugs me tighter for a second before letting me go and walking into the fenced-in yard. Looking back over her shoulder, she waves to me before walking into the school. My hands up, I clench the chain-link fence with one hand, and I hold up the other to my heart as I give her a chin up.
Only when the door closes behind her do I drop my head for a second before looking up at the sky and exhaling. Every single fucking time, it feels like half my heart stops beating when she leaves me. I push off from the fence and walk back over to the truck, pulling out my phone. Knowing this conversation would be happening today, I’ve played it over and over in my head the whole week.
I pull up her number and dial, my heart beating faster in my chest, waiting for her to answer. “Hello,” she answers on the third ring, no doubt doing it on purpose. I know she works with her phone beside her computer keyboard, so there is no excuse.
“Hey,” I say, “just dropped off Saige.”
“How is she?” she asks, clicking away on her side on the phone.
“She’s okay,” I answer and then take a deep inhale. “Listen, Karla, I wanted to talk to you before I go to my lawyer.” The clicking immediately stops, and the tension on the phone is so thick you could hear a leaf fall off the tree outside from inside the cab of my truck.
“Your lawyer?” she questions, her voice tight.
“I would like to have dinner with her once a week when it’s not my turn, and also, you should have a chance to see her too when it’s not your week.” My index finger taps the steering wheel nervously. “It would still be the same time that we spend with her, just it won’t be that long between when we switch.”
“Listen, Brock,” she says, her voice going low, “there is no reason to do this.”
“What do you mean there is no reason to do this?” I repeat. “I miss her, and she misses me. If you think there is no reason to do this, then why can’t we do it?”
“It’s been working all this time.” She trails off. “The schedule is fine the way it is.”
“No, it hasn’t,” I bite back. “I’ve been asking you to spend time with her during the week when you have her, and you always have an excuse. I’m tired of it, to be honest, so I’m asking you one more time if we can do it. If not, you are going to leave me no choice but to go and speak to my lawyer and see what we can do.”