Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Drake got up and grabbed a few tissues, handing them back to me, and I blew my nose on them.
“You’re up and walking again,” I said.
“Don’t turn this on to me. I’m fine and I heal fast. Just because he did horrible things doesn’t mean you can’t love the person. He hasn’t been horrible to you.”
“No, because fucking me and dumping me is a way of life.”
“Then don’t give him chance to think he won,” Drake said. “You’ve got your life. He didn’t dump you at one of his auctions. You ever thought that maybe Earl did love you?”
“No, he didn’t.”
Drake sighed. “He loved you enough to let you go. To start a life for yourself. He didn’t kill you, nor did he sell you. That’s a pretty big step forward from the shit I’ve heard about him.”
He had a point.
Still, if Earl had loved me, would he have really let me go?
I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t believe it. He wasn’t the kind of man to let a woman go just because he felt like it.
“Thank you,” I said.
Drake’s cell phone began to buzz. “I’ve got to deal with this. We’ll talk again, right?”
“Of course. Unless you turn into a creepy guy between now and then.”
“Try to eat something. Try to do something other than sit here crying.” He surprised me even more as he stood up, cupped my face, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I watched this man have a temper tantrum in high school. This cool, calm, collected person in his place didn’t seem real to me.
I watched him go and went back to staring out of the window.
As I watched the garden, I couldn’t help but acknowledge he had a point. If Earl didn’t feel a single thing for me, then he would’ve sold me to the next bidder. I didn’t know what good I would’ve been, seeing as I was used goods and all.
I had to look at the positives, even though they made me want to burst into tears at a moment’s notice.
I was alive. Earl didn’t love me, but he had cared. It meant something just to know he cared, even if it was just a smidge. It was something.
Getting to my feet, I decided against staying in my bedroom.
My heartache had been so acute, but it hadn’t stopped me from showering, so I didn’t stink or anything. Leaving my bedroom, I didn’t encounter Emily or her men. I nodded at the guards they had on different exits and entrances. No one stopped me as I got to the doorway into the garden.
It was nice weather. A slight chill in the air, but the sunshine glowed down.
Stepping out, I wrapped my arms around myself and walked toward the grassy area. I had a pair of sneakers on, and I took them off, allowing myself to feel the cool chill of the ground beneath my toes.
So good. Everything was different now.
My chest still felt hollow, and I didn’t know if I’d ever feel any kind of happiness, but getting up, moving forward, and accepting what it was were all parts of the process.
I was going to get through this.
One day, I’d forget about Earl, and I hoped I’d fall out of love with the bastard as well.
After spending a long time out in the garden, I made my way into the kitchen and became reacquainted with all the ingredients on offer. There were so many, and my mouth salivated at the thought of cooking.
Once I’d rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, I got to chopping. I was thinking a chickpea spiced stew with couscous.
I started with an onion, going through the mechanics of chopping and dumping them into the large cast-iron casserole pot I had.
It didn’t take long for the smells to bring guests.
Emily arrived first. Her mouth fell open as she looked at me. “Ashley, what are you doing?”
“Do you not want me to cook?”
“No, of course not. It’s good to see you cooking.”
I smiled at her.
She took a seat at the counter, putting her chin on her hands. “It has been too long since you cooked.”
To help me get through it, I vowed not to think of him. It was how I was going to survive.
With the bell peppers chopped, the onions sweating down, I got to work on the garlic. I hated the smell of raw garlic, but it was a necessity in cooking and couldn’t be overlooked. With the garlic smashed, I ran my knife through it, and that was when Gael and Vadik joined.
“I wondered what smelled so good,” Gael said.
“Just some home cooking. Nothing special.” I put the garlic off to the side and then grabbed the necessary spices. I looked through the collection they had and made a few selections.
I didn’t know what kind of meal I was going for and just started to add an array of them, starting with a small cinnamon stick. That went into the pot, followed by some paprika, cumin, and a couple more spices.