Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
FAMILY
COURTNEY
The cool air brushes against my skin, helping ease some of the tension I realize I’m feeling as soon as I reach the restaurant where I’m meeting Lorie for lunch. I hate being late, but Abby had an emergency meeting with a client and needed me. I sent Lorie a text to let her know I was running twenty minutes behind schedule, but she never replied. I know she was put out by my changing plans from dinner to lunch, but I had to choose between disappointing Lucas or her—and I don’t want to disappoint Lucas.
I spot Lorie at a four-top table in the back of the room, and I give the hostess a silent wave to let her know that I’m meeting someone.
“Hi. I’m so sorry I’m late.”
As always, Lorie looks sophisticated and elegant. She’s wearing a pale-blue, tailored women’s pantsuit with a cream silk blouse and pearls around her neck. Her almost-white hair is a little longer than I have ever seen her wear it, but it looks good on her.
“It’s not a problem. I got your message.” She stands and gives me a hug—one that’s warm and tight. More of the tension I was feeling is released as she pulls away slightly to look at me. “You look beautiful. I love your hair.”
I instantly reach up to touch my head. I never got my hair colored in the past, but Abby insisted I go with her to her salon for a makeover. I got highlights and lowlights, along with a deep conditioning treatment that seemed to make my hair glow and look perfect without my having to do much to tame it.
“Thank you. I love your hair, too.” I smile, and she reaches up to touch her hair the same way I touched mine.
“I found a new stylist. She’s amazing. I’ve already ordered us drinks.”
I take a seat and set my purse in the empty space next to me.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I miss you, too,” I respond.
“Tell me about your life here,” she urges after the waiter comes to take our orders.
Without thinking, I tell her about Lucas and Maddi and work and the house. I see the pain in her eyes as I speak, but I also see understanding.
“You love his daughter,” she says. I nod. “Are you in love with him? Lucas, I mean?”
I hate that my happiness might hurt her, but I won’t lie.
“I’m falling in love with him. Or maybe I’m already in love with him.” I pause. “Things between us are new, and we still have a lot to learn about each other, but he makes me happy.”
She takes my hand. “I wish things were different, that . . .” She looks away for a moment. “Don’t ever think that I don’t want you to be happy, Courtney. I love you like my own flesh and blood. I hate what happened to you. I hate that it was Tom who hurt you—and in turn hurt himself. I wish I could change things for the two of you.”
“No one can change things.”
“I know,” she agrees.
She stays quiet as lunch is brought out. When the waiter leaves, she studies me. I can tell she’s worried.
“What is it?” I ask.
She presses her lips together for a moment, then lowers her head.
“You’re going to be upset, but I love you. Rememb—”
Before she can finish, a shadow looms over the table. An unwelcome feeling slides down my spine. I look up. When my eyes meet Tom’s, I feel betrayed.
“Courtney.” He pulls out the chair next to mine, not removing my purse but instead sitting down in front of it.
I look at Lorie, and her eyes fill with tears. I can see she’s sorry for putting me in this situation, but that is not going to change what she’s already done.
“Give me my purse,” I say quietly as I pull my eyes from Lorie to look at Tom.
“I just want to talk.”
“And what about what I want?” I hiss.
The chatter from people at the tables around us quiets down. I can feel them all turn to watch us.
“I’m only here to apologize.” He leans in, and I lean back.
“Please hand me my purse.”
“Just hear me out.”
My body tightens. I feel trapped. I know he’s not going to give me my bag until I hear whatever it is he has to say. “Fine.”
He starts to reach out his hand toward me, but my eyes drop to it and narrow. He pulls it back and rests it on his lap. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Now please hand me my purse.”
“I’m going for full custody of Candice—”
“Good for you.” I cut him off.
His jaw tightens. “We always wanted a baby. We always wanted to be parents.”
My heart twists as what he’s suggesting registers.
“I want you back.”
My body goes rigid.
He must be crazy. Does he really think I’m so desperate to be a mom that I’d take him back?