Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
He’s pulled away from me without any regret.
I scrunch my eyes together and let the tears roll down my face. My heart feels like it’s being torn out of my body in slow motion.
Maybe my fairy tale is already over.
“Come on,” I laugh as I run about outside with Tillie at the end of the driveway. It’s 4:00 p.m. and Willow is still at work while Sammy is at his little friend’s until later tonight, after dinner.
Julian came to my bed last night, and we made love. Well, not really. We basically fucked with no emotion attached to it. But I felt like he was sad, too. We laid in silence after we were finished, clinging to each other, as if hoping the other one would take back what they said last week.
I can’t take mine back because it’s true, I do want children. I may not be gifted them by God’s hand, but I want to at least try. I can live without marriage, but motherhood… not so much.
The mailman pulls up and I smile and wave as he hands me the letters.
“How are you today?” he asks me.
“Fine, thanks.” I smile. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“It is, it is. See you later.”
“Come on, Tillie.” I begin to walk back to the house as I flick through the envelopes. Boring, boring, boring. I come to a letter in cream paper.
Julian Masters.
I turn the letter over to see who the sender is.
Dr Edwards.
Rosedale Clinic.
Hmm, I wonder what that is? I continue to look at the letter as I walk back up to the house. I stop to take out my phone and I Google Dr. Edwards, Rosedale clinic.
Dr Edwards is the leading vasectomy specialist in London.
My heart roars, racing wildly in my chest.
No. He wouldn’t?
I run back to the house with the letter in my hand. I put it onto the kitchen bench and stare at it.
My blood is pumping hard through my body as I begin to pace. Why is he getting a letter from this doctor? For fifteen minutes, I stare at it until curiosity gets the best of me and I tear open the envelope.
Mr. Masters,
Thank you for your enquiry this week regarding our vasectomy services. Please find below a quote as requested. Your initial appointment is on the 17th and then the procedure is booked for the 25th as requested.
The words go blurry as tears fill my eyes, and I put my hand over my mouth.
He’s going to have a vasectomy without telling me.
I stagger back in shock.
Oh… this hurts.
I grab the car keys, and I get in the car and with the letter in my hand. There's no thought as I tear down the driveway.
He wants a fight. He just fucking got one.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I speed to the courthouse with my heart beating wildly the whole journey there. He wouldn’t do this to me. I know he wouldn’t.
He loves me.
Why am I even going to see him when I know that there must be a reasonable explanation for this? Maybe he’s getting a reversal? Yes!
My eyes widen. Yes, of course.
My face falls. No, that’s not it. We used condoms in the beginning because he was scared he was going to get me pregnant. If he’d already had a vasectomy he wouldn’t have been worried about that at all.
My stomach rolls and the tears well again. He’s going out tonight with his friends. I can’t deal with not knowing what’s going on.
I need to talk to him.
I glance down at the letter on the seat, I screw up my face in tears and I sniff loudly.
He wouldn’t.
I stop at the traffic lights and I glance at my watch. Shit, hurry up.
If I don’t catch him as he’s walking to his car, I won’t know where he is, and I am not having this conversation over the phone. I need to see his face when I confront him.
I glance at the car next to me. The lady is looking at my crying face with a worried expression.
No, I’m not okay, bitch.
I shake my head and wipe my eyes with my forearm.
I know this has to be a misunderstanding. He wouldn't do this to me. Of course he wouldn't because that would be the end of us and he knows that.
Please don’t let this be the end of us.
I’m not ready to let him go.
Please, please, please, baby. Don’t let this be true.
I turn into the underground parking lot and I drive around until I see his car in his reserved parking space.
He’s still here.
I park my car and get out with the letter gripped firmly in my hand. I glance down at my watch. It’s 4:30 p.m and he’s finished for the day. He should be coming out at any moment. I walk over to his car and lean on it and I wait.