Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
I wince. “Why are you selling the house, Raya?”
“He explicitly requested I sell it in his will and use the money to follow my dreams.” She smiles down at the picture, though her expression is weighed down, a huge effort. “I couldn’t live here alone, not with Grandpa everywhere I look.”
“So where are your dreams, Raya?”
“I’m moving to Australia.”
Her declaration is like a dagger plunged into my side “Australia.” I can barely get the word out. The other side of the world? “Why?”
“Grandpa loved it there.” Her soft words confirm my fears. “He lived there until my parents died. Moved back to bring me up. We went there every year for the summer when I was a child. Now I’m taking his ashes back to where he always wanted to be. I need to get away from here. I need a fresh start.”
I exhale, breaking away from her, fearful that she’s sensing my unsteadiness. All of this has shocked me, but the news that she’s leaving England has rocked me to my core. And I don’t like it. At all. None of it—the news or my reactions to the news.
Jesus, Hux was an escape for her all right, but only until she could actually escape. Like leave the fucking country.
“When are you leaving?” There. I really didn’t want to go there.
“As soon as I sell this place.”
I jolt, feeling like I’ve just been struck by lightning. “Right,” I murmur. So she wasn’t mad because I’d acted like a caveman but because if that buyer walks, I’ve stalled her plans to leave.
“I’m going traveling first.” She smiles, seeming reminiscent. “Grandpa took me to so many places, and I’m going to revisit them all with his ashes, like he’s along for the ride. Then I’ll head for Australia and scatter his remains.” Raya sets the picture on the sideboard and releases her hair from her ponytail, retying it as she walks across to the fridge, seemingly unaware that I’m over here in turmoil. She collects a bottle of wine, then a glass from the cabinet. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“’Course not.” I could do with a drink myself.
“Want some?”
“No.” That would be stupid. Words, so many words, words that are a total jumble in my head, are swirling around. I shouldn’t add alcohol to the mix. Not here. “I really should be going.” I start to back out of the kitchen. “I’ll, umm…be in touch about any more viewings.”
“Can you not scare them away again, please?”
“No, I wouldn’t want to delay your plans to leave the country.” I frown to myself.
“Well,” she says quietly, taking a sip of her wine. “There’s nothing here for me anymore.”
What if there is? I turn, disturbed by my private question, and leave Raya, the walls closing in around me.
As soon as I’m outside, I breathe in some sense, try to straighten out my mind as I walk on shaky legs to my car. Fuck me, I feel like I’ve been physically winded.
Chapter 9
Australia?” Sam parrots after I’ve spent half an hour giving them all the details. He nods, like he’s agreeable, and slurps his beer. “It’s an amazing place to live.”
Jesse knocks Sam’s knee, which, in turn, dislodges the neck of the bottle from his lips, making beer dribble down his chin. “What?” he questions.
Jesse’s eyes roll dramatically, his big chest expanding under his Ralph Lauren shirt on an inhale. “You practically trampled a guy.” He toasts me with his glass. “That’s a fucking huge red flag, mate.”
I stare at my bottle moodily. “He was a cock.” Sam and Jesse both laugh. “I’m glad you two are finding this amusing.” I’m in fucking bits here.
Sam’s palm lands on my good shoulder. “It happens to the best of us, my man. I have fucking battle wounds from the cat-and-mouse games Kate had me playing, and worst of all I didn’t even realize I was fucking playing. Women do that. Make you lose your sense and perspective.”
I cannot believe I’m taking advice on women from these two chumps. They are the worst example of how to get the woman you want. But one thing is for sure: I already have battle wounds. Some of them visible. Some of them not so much. I rub my forehead, trying to stem the building headache.
I feel like I’m at a crossroads in my life. My next move is crucial. It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew where exactly I wanted to be. I’m forty this year, and I was content with all I am, what I have, where I was heading, until an intriguing young woman turned up at Hux and ground that all to shit. The only woman in my life to make me stop and think for a moment. Think about everything. Analyze everything. Damn her.
I could ask her not to go, simple as that. Except it isn’t that simple. What would that mean? Commitment on my part? I laugh at the notion. I can’t give her that. The only female I’ve ever been committed to is seven years old and wears pigtails. Asking Raya to stay would mean telling her about Georgia. And introducing Georgia to a woman is out of the question unless that woman is guaranteed to be in my life forever, and that’s never guaranteed. Besides, that’s assuming Raya would want to meet her. She might run for the hills at the news that I have a daughter. Raya is twenty-four. I’m touching forty.