Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I waited for my mom to continue, but she stayed silent and I couldn’t take the suspense. “If I would do what?”
“If you would talk to him just one last time before he passes away,” she explained with tears welling in her eyes.
My hands balled into fists and I let out a groan. “Why?!” I demanded, feeling suddenly indignant. “Why should I? And why are you still talking to the man who completely ruined your life?!” I could feel my face growing hot as my rage intensified, but I didn’t know how to find relief from it. The anger bubbled up inside me with no way out and I was beginning to get frustrated.
“Everyone deserves a second chance, my boy,” Mom said in her meek, accommodating voice. “You haven’t seen him in a long time, Griff. Things change. He’s changed. He isn’t the abusive man you remember anymore. This might be the very last chance you have to see him, Griff. I think you should go.”
I pushed up from my chair and turned away from her as I tried to calm myself down. “I’m not interested in some kind of deathbed reunion with my father—the evilest man I’ve ever known. I’m not going to help him ease his guilt, Mom. He’s already been dead to me for years now.”
A beat of silence passed between us before my mom stood and approached me. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a comforting hug. “I don’t want you to go to help him,” she explained, “I want you to go for yourself, Griff. I don’t want you to miss this chance and end up regretting it years later.”
I took a deep breath and felt my initial anger ease. “I understand, Mom, and I know why you want me to do this, but I can’t. I just can’t,” I told her with a shake of my head. “Besides, these dishes still need washing, don’t they?” I pulled away from her and headed back to the table to grab the plates again. “You can come help dry them if you want,” I called back to her as I exited the room and put the whole conversation out of my mind.
Mom didn’t bring it up again.
A week passed and Wednesday was here. On my way into work, I stopped at a local florist and picked up a big bunch of red roses to leave on Remy’s desk. I deliberately got to the office early in order to set everything up for her and I waited around the corner when she entered the office to wait for her reaction.
Remy walked into the office alongside her best friend Shelley. She was wearing a knee-length gray pencil skirt and a loose-fitting white shirt. Her blonde hair was wrapped up in a bun and she wore comfortable-looking black flats on her feet. Though it was merely standard office wear, I couldn’t help but notice how her skirt hugged her hips and how her shirt was unbuttoned just enough at the top so I could see the swell of her breasts.
Shame washed over me. I shouldn’t have been watching her like some kind of peeping tom, but I wanted to see her reaction to the flowers. I wanted to know I’d made her happy for once instead of always pushing her away—even if it was just for show.
“Oh my God, Remy!” Shelley screeched as she noticed the flowers and scurried toward the receptionist’s desk. “No way, look at these!”
Remy lifted her head up from the floor and when she noticed the bouquet, her face broke out into a gorgeous smile. It was contagious and I couldn’t stop smiling as well. It had been worth waiting for her reaction, most definitely. Yet, the longer I looked at her, the more I really saw. While she was undoubtedly happy, I couldn’t help but notice the dark circles around her eyes. She was tired and her eyes were red like she had been crying recently. Her good mood faded shortly after the initial excitement too and I couldn’t help but think that perhaps our fake relationship might still be hurting Remy even though we were keeping our distance. I didn’t want to hurt her at all, but it seemed I was too late and now, there was a whole plan set in motion which I couldn’t back out of—not if I was determined to keep my job.
Instead of dwelling on it longer, I emerged from my hiding place with a big smile on my face. “Good morning, birthday girl!” I called happily as I approached her. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a warm hug. “Happy Birthday, Remy. Do you like the flowers?”
Shelley sent me a thumbs up from behind Remy’s back and I knew I’d done a good job.