Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I wait for more, near certain that’s not why she’s here.
“And?” I prompt.
“…and there’s one more thing, yeah,” she says. No shit. “I was just offered a new art job in Chicago.”
The fuck? The blood drains from my head as I stare at her.
“You’re leaving,” I growl, anger flicking through my veins.
“I mean, I know it sounds bad, but—”
“Goddamn you, Ri. Colt just started getting used to having you around and you’re pulling up stakes again? I should’ve known.” I snort, struggling to keep my voice down.
She’s so predictable it’s ridiculous. Yet I still let myself get pulled into the possibility that she could do something new.
That this time would be different.
The definition of insanity, doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results.
Rina will never fucking change.
“I’ve heard enough,” I say coldly, already sick of this.
She grabs my arm as I turn, ready to storm back to the vehicle and be done with this whole conversation.
“Archer, wait.”
“No. I don’t have time for your bullshit excuses right now,” I grind out. “Let go, Rina.”
“Just listen!” She plants her small body firmly in my way. “I know you’re pissed. I get it, but this isn’t like last time. I want to see him. Often. I want Colt to visit me.”
I stare at her.
Rina, the ex-wife I once thought I loved, the mother of my child.
Age really is catching up with her, and in the evening sun, she looks a little like she could blow away in the breeze.
“I’ve discussed it with him.” She swallows. “I was thinking we’d take a trip together this fall, maybe he could fly in for winter break… but you were so worried about Winnie, I didn’t know how to bring it up. And that’s when I realized this isn’t the right place for me after all, even aside from the job.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you were so caught up with her, you couldn’t think about anything else. That’s not your fault, it’s honestly kind of sweet. Colt loves her too. You guys made a life here, and I’m not part of it. That’s my fault, no one else’s.”
I don’t understand.
I also don’t recognize the woman she’s become.
She might look the same, but this isn’t the Rina I know, who resented me for having near total custody every time she came back to ruin Colt’s life.
It’s like something getting washed away from my eyes so I can see clearly again.
Are we finally being adults?
Goddamn, it’s taken long enough.
“We’re both committed to burying the past, right?” she says gently. “You’ve been trying and so have I. But Archer, that’s easier if I live elsewhere.”
“Like Chicago,” I say numbly.
“Chicago, yes. Not too far, but far enough. A comfortable distance and a quick plane ride away.” She smiles and pats my arm. “Go get her, Arch. We can talk more later, after she’s back home.”
Home.
No matter how weird it sounds coming from her, it still feels right.
It’s almost felt like Winnie always belonged with us. Not that there’s any guarantee she’ll just move back in with me like nothing ever happened.
“Later,” I agree, raising a hand and jogging back to the car.
It’s only when I’m walking in with Colt that I notice I don’t feel the same lingering melancholy frustration I usually do over Rina’s antics.
Once stung, twice shy, they say.
Winnie Emberly has broken the cycle, and I can’t wait to bring her home for good.
27
BEE MINE (WINNIE)
Even a couple weeks after my discharge, I’m still bursting with gratitude to be free.
I spent way too long cooped up in that hospital bed. My parents visited every day, which was definitely something, and Archer rarely left my side to shower, which was sweet but unnecessary.
The not showering part, I mean. Keeping me company and bringing Colt around every day was a nice bonus. A gesture that told me he really, really meant everything he said on that delirious walk back to civilization.
If he was going to tell me he loved me, he could have done it with roses and a tasty dinner like most guys. Or at least when I was fully awake and able to process words drenched in emotion.
I hate that I have blurry half-assed shards of a core memory I wasn’t totally present for. But I love that his confession kept me alive more.
He did it again, too, which was even better.
Several times, actually.
Once when we were still in the hospital, when he kissed me and told me he loved me and never could’ve forgiven himself if something awful happened to me.
That was adorable.
So was the moment he brought me home and I stood on his threshold. He asked to carry me in, and I told him absolutely not.
They haven’t let me do much standing over the last few days. Walking still feels like a newfound luxury and my legs still hurt plenty from my time in hell.