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)
“Karla.” I call her name and she turns back to look at me. “Just so we’re clear, who I see is none of your business.” She spins to face me. “And who I have in my house is, again, none of your business.” She starts to say something, but I hold up my hand. “Before you spew any shit, think about it. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, yeah?” I wait a second. “I’m going to introduce Saige to Everleigh this weekend,” I say.
“She already met her,” she throws in my face. “Not that you discussed it with me.”
“Not that I need to explain myself to you, but she met her as my friend. This weekend, she’ll know we’re together.” I might be getting ahead of myself since I haven’t spoken to Everleigh yet, but I want Everleigh to be there with me, and I don’t want to hide the way I feel about her.
“Did you even give us a chance?” she asks softly.
“You knew how I felt,” I remind her. “I never, ever led you on. You knew I loved Everleigh, and I made it clear to you I didn’t think I would love anyone again.” She looks down. “You didn’t care.”
“Well, I guess I made a mistake, thinking I could change you,” she says, turning and walking into her house and slamming the door, telling me the conversation is over.
I exhale and make my way over to my house. One conversation down, one more to go, I think to myself when I pull up to my house and see the lights on, and I smile knowing she’s inside. I walk up the steps and open the front door, listening to her moving around in the house as I kick off my boots.
I find her in the kitchen, putting on the kettle. “Hey,” I say, and she looks over her shoulder at me. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts, and her hair is wet.
“Hey, I came over and took a shower while I waited for you. I was going to shower when I got home, but I ended up uploading videos to our social media. Then I was making the last-minute things for this Saturday.” She turns. “Hope that’s okay.”
“We need to talk,” I say, pulling out the stool and sitting down with the island between us.
“Uh-oh,” she reacts, and I can see she’s nervous, “that doesn’t sound good.” I put my hands on the counter. “Did dinner not go well?”
“It went amazing,” I say the truth. “Would have liked it if you were there, but next time.”
“You guys should have alone time,” she says, and it does something to me that she understands that.
“I spoke to Karla tonight,” I share, and she walks to the island between us. She puts her hands on the island, and I can see her nervously tapping it. “Told her I was going to introduce you to Saige this weekend.”
“I’ve already met her.” She says the same thing Karla said.
“Yes, but she thought you were my friend. I want to tell her you’re more than that.”
“Isn’t that rushing things?” She looks in my eyes, and I feel the crushing on my chest, thinking she’s already made up her mind about when she is leaving, and she hasn’t told me.
“I don’t know, you tell me,” I retort. “Soon the bakery is going to be done. It’s done already, but soon your mother is going to be back full force. Where does that leave you?”
“Funny you should ask. I had a conversation with my mother today about that,” she states, and I hold my breath. I’m bracing for what is to come, bracing for her to say the words she’s leaving. Bracing for how I’m going to live without her again, but this time knowing I will never, ever love another woman the way I love her. She’s it for me. “We discussed the bakery and how I want to continue with the food truck.” I can’t even swallow, the lump is growing bigger and bigger in my throat. “And, well, I’ve decided I’m going to stay.” I let out the breath I was holding. “I know this might be a lot for you. That it’s too fast and whatever. But you weren’t the deciding factor.”
“Did you factor me in there at all?”
“Well, of course I did,” she says softly. “I just didn’t want you to—”
“To what?” I snip. “Hope you were staying for me. For us.”
“Brock,” she says, and I shake my head.
“I came home tonight and saw the light on, and when I walked in, I heard you in here doing whatever it is you were doing. I’ve never come home to anyone in this house. When I don’t have Saige, the house is dead and quiet. It is eerily quiet, as if the house is standing still. With you in it, it gives it life.”