Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
But then I met Theo…and I didn’t know men like him could exist.
Now he wants me all to himself.
Do I forgive him…or do I stay?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
ASTRID
My apartment was small—but it was mine.
I’d chosen a one-bedroom with a small kitchen and a sitting room that could only fit a couch. It was furnished because I’d rented it that way. I had a month-to-month lease, so it was just a placeholder until I found something worth the investment of my time. Staying at a hotel was way too expensive for the long-term.
It took me a couple days to prepare myself to return to what was now only Bolton’s house to retrieve the rest of my stuff. Not because I wanted to avoid him, but I was just too broken to muster up the energy. A part of me hoped a text from Theo would come through with an apology. Or he would call to check on me. Something.
But he never did.
I wasn’t sure what devastated me more. Bolton’s betrayal or Theo’s departure.
How did two men break my heart in such a short amount of time?
Now that I wasn’t living with Bolton, I didn’t know his schedule. Grabbing my things while he was out on a contract was the best decision, but I had no idea when he had his assignments anymore.
I suspected he’d stopped taking them—and just waited for me to come back.
I pulled up to the house instead of parking in my usual spot because I didn’t live there anymore. It was a foggy night, the cold heavy in the air, the light gone before five. The rain had finally let up, so I thought now was the best time to retrieve a load of my things.
I walked up to the front door and put my key in the lock, but then I quickly withdrew it and knocked.
Footsteps sounded a moment later.
My heart dropped to my stomach in disappointment.
Bolton opened the door, wearing his sweatpants and one of his black tees. With his hand on the doorknob, he stared at me with those eyes that were so blue they looked unnatural. He absorbed my appearance, his eyes trying to pull me in hard, like he wanted me right next to him.
“I just came to get a load of my things.”
He continued to stand there.
“I can come by when you aren’t home—”
“I’m always home—waiting for you.”
When his stare became too much, I broke contact first. “Then let me get my things.”
He stepped aside and shut the door behind me.
The warmth of home surrounded me. It smelled the same. This had been his place when we got together, and I moved in a few months after we met. I’d been love-sick, and everything had happened so quickly, a rush that hadn’t stopped until he told me he wanted to fuck other people.
I took off my coat and hung it on the rack.
“Are you hungry?” he asked from behind me. “I made dinner.”
“No. I’m just here for my stuff.” I approached the hallway and the staircase.
“Astrid—”
“Bolton, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” I stilled, feeling him behind me, picturing his stare.
After a pause, he spoke. “I’m just worried about you. It seems like something is wrong. Something besides our problems.”
I continued to look at the stairs and the photographs that hung on the walls on either side. Pictures of us on our wedding day. Vacations to Positano—our favorite place. Was my sorrow for Theo so obvious that Bolton could see it? Did I wear my broken heart on my sleeve?
I didn’t turn around, and he reached for my elbow. “Astrid.” When I didn’t yank my arm away, he gently turned me toward him, inch by inch, until our eyes met. “Talk to me. You’re my favorite person in the world to speak to…and I miss you. This time apart has only shown me how little life I have without you.” His fingers remained on my elbow, like I might fly away at any moment. His eyes continued to drill into my face with a hint of desperation, and he wore his heart on his sleeve in a way he never had before. “Talk to me.”
I was heartbroken over another man, and that made me feel guilty. Thinking of someone else when he poured his heart out to me like that. “It’s okay, Bolton. I’ll just get my things and be on my way—”
“Astrid.” He tightened his fingers on my arm. “You can tell me anything.”
“I’m not your problem anymore—”
“You’re my wife. You will always be my problem. I want you to always be my problem.” He moved closer to me, sliding his hand up my arm as he drew close. He stepped into my space, close enough that I could catch a whiff of his scent, the smell that was on my sheets, in the bathroom after he took a shower. “Have dinner with me. You can get your stuff afterward.”