Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“Yeah. Uh, just give me a minute.”
Her fingers brush my other hand as she steps past me to the door. “I’ll give you all the time you need.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and get it together. My experience with love has been extreme. The bigger the love, the greater the pain. And I don’t know if it’s worth it, because it fucking hurts to love someone this much.
When I reenter the house, Lola shows Maren the cake and the gifts. Maren gives Lola a one-armed hug, and I think she might cry after reading the We Love You. But then she lets her gaze drift to other things, all the things I did to her house while she was working and trying to die on me.
The newly remodeled kitchen.
The refinished wood floors.
The fresh paint.
We make eye contact, and she mouths, Thank you.
“Sit down, Maren.” Her mom guides her to the sofa while her dad inspects my workmanship.
The next hour is a blur of echoey conversations and occasional glances from Maren as she eats cake and listens to Lola talk her ear off. Will has to leave before his cat allergy kills him, and Fitz and Jamie head to dinner.
“We’re ordering pizza. Are you and Lola staying?” Colleen asks. “We’d love it if you would.”
“I have work in the morning. And Maren won’t get any rest if I don’t get my daughter out of here.”
“Dad!” Lola rolls her eyes. Of course she’s listening when I don’t need her to hear me.
“It’s true. Maren needs rest to continue healing.” I playfully tug her long hair.
Lola huffs a long sigh. “Fine. Bye, Maren. We’ll be back tomorrow. Right, Dad?” She kneels on the sofa next to Maren and hugs her.
I avert my gaze when Maren eyes me over Lola’s shoulder. “We’ll see,” I murmur.
“We can’t thank you enough for everything you and Lola have done around here,” Aaron says, shaking my hand again.
“No thank-you necessary.” I smile.
“I hear you ride a bike,” Colleen says to Lola. “Can you show Aaron and me your bike?” Again, I feel like her mom wants to give us time alone.
I’m not ready to be alone with her. Just a few minutes on the porch were plenty awkward. The guilt and shame are eating me alive, and I’m not emotionally ready or equipped to deal with it tonight.
“It’s just a bike,” Lola says with a shrug that makes Aaron and Colleen chuckle. “But sure. I’ll show you my bike.”
When they’re out the door, I face the sofa and stuff my hands into my front jeans pockets. “I have some explaining to do, but I don’t think tonight is the right time.”
Maren slowly shakes her head. “You don’t owe me an explanation. Has your silence hurt? Yes. But my feelings are not your problem,” she says so calmly, so full of unspoken understanding, I can’t help but feel unworthy of being part of her life. “And I love how everything looks. It’s beautiful. The flowers, Ozzy.” She blinks the emotion from her eyes. “The fucking flowers.” Shaking her head, she sniffles and swallows hard. “Thank you.” She tries to change the subject with flowers.
And maybe that’s for the best, but it feels wrong. I don’t deserve an out.
“What I did was unforgivable,” I say.
She winces. “No, Ozzy. Something terrible happened, and you were just trying to survive. And that’s all I was trying to do. It doesn’t have to be pretty. The anger I felt has faded. And when I saw you step out onto the porch, it no longer mattered.”
“I was weak,” I whisper.
“You’re anything but weak.”
I stare at the ceiling and exhale a slow breath. “I have never felt so helpless in my life. Hundreds of miles away with nothing but a bike, the memories of Brynn’s death, and a child who broke down when I begged her to let me go see you.” I drop my gaze as tears trail down Maren’s cheeks.
She doesn’t try to hide them or wipe them away as Bandit jumps onto her lap.
“I have . . .” I shake my head, pressing my lips together while I find the words. “I have so many emotions that don’t all fit together and make sense.”
Maren nods, sliding her fingertips along her tearstained cheeks as she sniffles. “I’ll be here ready to listen. And I don’t care if your emotions make sense. I don’t think a lot of things in life make sense. Maybe our love doesn’t make sense, but I love you nonetheless.”
Why does she have to be so kind?
I glance out the front window at Lola.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done to my house. It’s more beautiful than I imagined.” She repeats her gratitude as if working on her house makes up for ignoring her.
“I worked on that plane.”
Maren’s smile deflates, eyes narrowed as if she’s not following my sudden shift in topic. “Ozzy, I don’t think it was the plane. From what I’ve been told, there was rotor turbulence. And I was on my way back. They were grounding everyone. And I don’t remember everything, but I do remember turbulence.”