Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Ask whatever you want to.”
She pauses, seeming to have some internal war with herself. Finally, she asks, “Will she be there tonight?”
That’s not what she was wanting to ask. I can tell.
“Probably. She’s part of the society crowd. Sorry in advance,” I say, mumbling the last part.
“She won’t bother me.”
I laugh bitterly while shaking my head. “You have my child, Allie. She’s going to be a bitch. But I’ll kick her out if she says anything. Just let me know.”
Her lips tighten, and I tense all over again.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask, taking my turn.
“Sure.”
She doesn’t look satisfied, because whatever she really wants to know is still nagging her. Well, something is nagging me too.
“I wish I could remember that night. I wish I could go back and handle things differently, but I can’t. So, I want to try and wipe it from your memory, even though I know that’s not actually possible.”
I sound like a rambling jackass.
“What’s the question?” she asks, biting back a teasing grin.
Blowing out a harsh breath, I take another turn, slowly gliding us toward the cliff home. “I want a redo.”
I don’t want to ask for something as cliché as a second chance, especially since I don’t remember my first chance. I want to start all over with a clean slate, because a mere second chance isn’t good enough.
She studies me, and I stare straight ahead, pretending as though I can’t see her from my peripheral.
“A redo?”
I nod, and she turns back to face the front. “That’s doable, I guess. Though I’m not really sure what a redo entails or what purpose it serves. I’ve already moved past all the things that once hurt. But whatever you need to move past it, I’ll do it.”
Unbelievable.
I need to stop speaking to her, because I swear I’m seconds away from pulling the car over and saying to hell with the consequences.
Fuck. My dick is hard again.
“What did you really want to ask? I know you wanted to know something other than if Erica is going to be there.”
She takes a hesitant breath before finally asking, “Why did you get divorced?”
Dick is no longer hard. At this rate, the poor thing is going to get whiplash.
That’s not an easy question to answer.
“There wasn’t any one particular thing that ended it. Hell, I tried getting rid of her before we even got married, but she kept clawing her way back into my life. Then things started changing. And finally, Tag happened.”
She whips around in her seat, and I almost feel her anger. “He slept with your wife?” she asks incredulously.
I burst out laughing while shaking my head. “Hell no. No. No. Sorry, no. That’s not what I meant. What I meant was that he fell hard for Ash. In the beginning, I was glad I wasn’t as head-over-heels as he was. Hell, he was miserable. They didn’t have a traditional or easy start. But then when they finally got together… Well, shit changed. And Erica got envious—I’m talking green with envy.”
She relaxes lightly in her seat. “Not trying to sound annoying, but why was she envious?”
Shrugging, I answer, “Because she wanted what they have, and I didn’t feel like that toward her. Tag is a passionate guy. I’m more reserved. I hate PDA, and she tried to maul me in front of people. She never did that before Tag got Ash. But she felt like if the world’s biggest player could turn into a big romantic, then I was supposed to suddenly change as well. She started pressuring me to have a kid, went on and on about how that could really save our marriage—she’s that crazy.”
Allie stays quiet, as though she expects more. But I don’t really know what else to say.
“You didn’t want kids?” she asks, an edge of hurt in her tone.
Shit.
“Not with Erica. Erica is selfish—too selfish to reproduce. Even her reasoning for having a child was selfish. Hell, I stopped touching her because she went off the Pill, swearing I’d have to give her a child if I ever wanted to get laid again. I didn’t trust a single condom in the house. And to be honest, it wasn’t worth the risk.”
This just feels wrong to talk about.
Allie squirms uncomfortably, and for some reason she almost looks mad. But she shifts gears in the conversation again.
“So she left you because you wouldn’t touch her, or because you wouldn’t have a child?”
“Both, I guess. Not that either matters. We had a prenup.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose, seeming to be lost in thought. “Would you still be with her if she hadn’t left you?”
I laugh before I realize it, because it feels like so long ago that I was ever in that mess. Allie seems confused when she looks at me again.