Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Ava
I stared out the window at the water, pulling my legs up to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my knees, laying my cheek on them. From the great room, I heard laughter and the snippets of many conversations. I felt removed and tired today.
So tired.
I still had no idea what to think about Hunter’s announcement yesterday. That his grandfather had listed me as a beneficiary if he never showed up. It also explained the way he hissed, “You’re her,” the day I introduced myself.
Why would Mr. Owens list me as the second beneficiary?
I had always tried to be nice to Mr. Owens. I checked on him, made sure he had supplies. My family looked after him behind the scenes, but he never shared anything personal. Never told me about his grandson. He would talk of his wife, Gail. Share the occasional story. At times, seem lost in memories. But Hunter’s name never passed his lips. His plans for the house were never brought up.
I sighed, shutting my eyes and rolling my shoulders.
Hunter’s words, his story, kept flitting through my mind. The pain he kept hidden. The emotional toll his childhood had taken on him. His refusal to even consider that he could have a different kind of life, that he was different from his mother. He couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see how incredible he was or how capable he was of caring. Loving.
I wiped the tears that kept coming, drying my face with my sweatshirt. I had done exactly what I swore I wouldn’t do. What I never planned to happen. I was falling in love with Hunter Owens. Despite the difference in our childhoods, the ten-year age gap between us, how we viewed things, somehow we fit. I felt different in his company. He had a way of making me feel safe. Protected. Yet not in an overbearing, coddling way. He let me be me. He loved my bossiness and quirks. But he also made me safe enough to show my weaker side. Nothing felt as good as lying on his chest, listening to his low baritone voice as he read to me. Feeling his arms around me in the night when I would wake up. His humor and the sound of his laughter that seemed to surprise him when it happened—as if he weren’t used to hearing himself amused.
And the way he saw me. He knew when I was tired. When I needed to be held. He saw through all my defenses and underneath the bluster I had perfected to the real me. And he allowed me to show it, and in his own special way, he surrounded me, helping me find my strength.
Except, maybe I had pushed him too far. After telling me his past yesterday, he had shut down. He stood and went outside, working on the railings. I joined him, but things were strained. I wasn’t sure if he regretted telling me, if he felt I had overstepped, or if he simply needed some time to process the entire conversation. When Gracie had texted me, asking for some help, he seemed grateful for the reprieve. He kissed me and sent me off with a smile, but his lips had barely brushed mine, and there had been no indication of any plans to see me later. After I walked out of view through the break in the trees, I had paused. There was no sound behind me, no nail gun, nothing. I stepped off the path and peeked through the trees. Hunter stood, bent over the railing, his head hanging down, his shoulders hunched in defeat. I waited, wanting him to come after me, to call out—but he didn’t. I was desperate to go back to him and wrap my arms around him, but I knew he wouldn’t like it, and I couldn’t bear the rejection that would follow. My footsteps dragged all the way back to my house.
He hadn’t called or texted, and my back door hadn’t opened all night. I spent the night tossing and turning, and this morning had dragged myself from bed, looking haggard and feeling lousy.
A cup of coffee appeared in front of me. I lifted my head and met my mom’s worried gaze. She sat across from me, sipping her coffee in silence. Finally, she spoke.
“Are you all right, Ava?”
“I’m good. It was a long week.”
“So your brother told us. Your father is worried.”
I shrugged. “It happens, Mom. You know yourself, dealing with people is hard. Some harder than others. I’ve had a bad stretch lately.”
“Maybe you need a break.”
I gazed past her to the water outside, mesmerized as always by the variant of colors in the lake as the waves rolled.
“You haven’t taken a break in a long time,” she continued.
“Things have been too busy,” I agreed.