Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“The weather is amazing.” I start with that. “Work is thriving. I’ve even gotten a couple more clients since I started here because of the show I went to in Vegas.”
“Um, Zoey…” She trails off. “How is Nash?”
I look down at my yellow pad in front of me. “He’s,” I start strong, and then my voice dips a bit, “amazing. He’s funny and smart and”—I smile—“thoughtful.”
“Why does it sound like you’re going to say but?” She laughs, and I lean back in my chair, my stomach flipping over back and forth, and my hands starting to get clammy.
“There is no but, that’s the thing.” I look over at Nash, seeing him laugh at something his brother says. “Like, I can’t pinpoint one thing that he has wrong with him.”
My mother bursts out laughing. “That’s a good thing,” she tries to tell me. “It’s more than good. It’s a great thing.”
“It’s weird, Mom,” I finally huff. “Like nothing, and I mean nothing, bothers me about him. Even if I want it to. He doesn’t leave his stuff lying around. He makes me matcha every single morning even though he fucking hates it. He’s considerate of me and always asks me what I want to do before telling me what he wants to do.” I hear how silly I sound.
“What is really bothering you?” she asks me the million-dollar question.
“He asked me to give him ninety days to fall in love with him.” My mother gasps at my confession. “I know, I know, but we had just gotten married.” I close my eyes and even I groan for how it sounds.
“And you’ve fallen in love with him in less than a month,” she points out.
“Well, no,” I counter, “but the fact is, when the ninety days is over, then what?” My stomach gets tight. “He hasn’t even brought it up. Like, what if I fall in love with him, and then he decides he’s not in love with me after the ninety days? Then what?”
“Zoey,” she says softly, “think about what you just said. Do you really think he would be doing all of this if he wasn’t in love with you already?”
“I don’t know,” I answer her honestly. “I know he must like me, and the sex is—”
“Too much,” she quickly says. “I don’t need to know that part.” I laugh because I’m in my thirties, so she knows I have sex. Now that I’m married, I’m more than allowed to have all the sex, and trust me, I do.
“Mom, what happens after ninety days?” I ask her what I’ve been wanting to ask Nash for the past week. Ever since it dawned on me that I’ve fallen in love with him. Which makes no sense. Who falls in love with someone after a month?
“Why are you even putting a time limit on it if he’s not brought it up again?” she asks. “If in ninety days he doesn’t say anything, you don’t either.”
“So it’ll be the big elephant in the room no one talks about,” I say, shocked. “Immediately fucking no, Mom.”
“Then ask him where he is?” I gasp even more.
“And be the one who is like, so do you like me?” I shake my head. “That’s not an option either.”
“Heaven forbid your generation learns how to communicate without blowing everything out of proportion.”
I laugh loudly. “Oh, like my mother who tweeted my father to crash her ex’s wedding?”
“That wasn’t blowing anything out of proportion,” she fights back. “Anyway, I married him, so what does it matter how it started?”
I’m about to say something to her when a hand moves my hair over and then slides around the back of my neck. “We leave in ten.” Nash looks down at me with his bright blue eyes, mouthing it to me because I’m on the phone.
“It’s my mother,” I tell him, and he bends forward to talk into the phone.
“Hi, Zara,” he says into the phone.
“Tell him I say hello and ask him how he feels about you.” My mother laughs at herself.
“She says hello.” I leave out the rest of it. “Okay, Mom, got to go. I’ll see you next week. Give Dad a kiss for me.”
“Love you,” she says before hanging up, and I put my phone down.
“Is she coming here next week?” Nash asks, leaning back on the desk, and I shake my head.
“I’m going to New York.” I can see the surprise on his face. “Got a couple of meetings I have to have with clients, so I called and let her know.”
“Okay.” He stands up. “I’ll call my parents, and we can have a family dinner.”
“Wait, what?” I look up at him. “You’re going to come with me?”
“I’m not letting you go by yourself,” he replies, putting his hands in his pockets. “I have to go close my stuff. We have that dinner tonight.” I nod at him as he bends, and I raise my eyebrows.