Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I wanted to hug my mom’s neck. She’d come in and defused the tension like a pro.
Kye stood up from the stool. “I’m on it,” he told her.
“Yes, ma’am,” Bowie replied.
I turned to look at her while they both headed to do what she’d asked.
Thank you, I said silently.
She nodded. “There is too much going unsaid that you need to clear up before you walk down the aisle,” she said in a low voice, then followed Kye to the attic.
I stood there alone, wondering what she meant by that and afraid I already knew.
Twelve
Genesis
December 10
While I finished putting the lights around the tree, Kye had gone up to the attic to find the ornaments his mom had told me were up there. I wanted to have everything decorated before Bowie got here tomorrow night. He was only going to be able to stay for two days, but it was something. We needed to make some decisions on the wedding. Like where, what colors, how many people, flowers, cake—since he was vegan, that was going to be more difficult. He’d promised he could stay the entire week from Christmas to New Year. I was hoping we’d get a lot done during that time.
“Found them! You and I made most of these. I forgot about them. Mom hasn’t used them since she moved,” Kye said as he put the boxes down on the coffee table.
I walked over and picked up one of the colorful balls that had a small handprint in white paint on it, where the fingers had been made into snowmen. Chloe had always done a craft day before decorating the tree when we were younger. The year we had turned thirteen, Kye had put his foot down and refused to do it anymore. I smiled when I saw my name written with a Sharpie on the back of the red ball.
“I love these. We had such little hands once,” I said.
“What do you mean, had? Baby Doll, you still have little hands,” Kye teased.
I rolled my eyes and put the ball back in the box while I continued to study the ornaments we’d made as kids. “If your mom isn’t going to use them, I wonder if she’d let me have them?” I asked.
Kye shrugged. “I don’t see why not. What are you gonna do, hang these on your Christmas tree every year?”
I nodded. “Yes, I am.”
A smirk curled his lips. “I’m sure Bowie will fucking love that.”
I glared up at him. “He won’t mind.” At least, I didn’t think so. “Bowie probably has a few in here too. Didn’t he do ornaments with us one year?”
Kye plopped down on the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table, crossing his ankles. “I don’t remember. I fucking hope not.”
“Kye!” I scolded him. “When are you going to ease up on Bowie?”
Thanksgiving was the last time I’d tried to get the two of them together. Not only had Kye told Bowie what my favorite flower was and how I felt about roses, but he had also corrected him on my favorite Christmas song and the way I liked my coffee, and the worst was when he’d brought up the fact that I loved vintage-style jewelry. He had gone on to be specific and said that I preferred yellow diamonds, unlike the princess cut white diamond that Bowie had chosen for my engagement ring. That the only rings I liked with white diamonds were if the diamonds were around an oval-cut sapphire. I’d been torn between being angry with him and impressed that he remembered something like that. I couldn’t even remember when I had said anything about engagement rings to him. We never talked about marriage.
“I’ll ease up on him when you give him that ring back. Besides, that ring isn’t you.”
I looked down at the engagement ring on my finger. “It’s a beautiful ring,” I told him.
Kye let out a short laugh. “It’s typical. Just like the fucking roses. He doesn’t take the time to make things special. If he’s gonna buy you flowers, then he should have found out what your favorite one was. And if a man is dumb enough to get engaged, then he should fucking make sure he knows the type of ring his woman wants. You don’t just go buy the first thing you see.”
I put my hand on my hip and stared at him. “How did you know about what kind of ring I wanted anyway? When did we ever discuss that?”
He flicked his tongue ring against his top teeth and grinned at me. “We didn’t. I just pay attention.”
I raised my eyebrows. “No, you don’t. You can’t even remember the girl’s name you were with last night!”
He’d already called her two different names, telling me about how Mattia had gotten oddly possessive over her. He often shared women with his friends, along with other kinky things.