Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Wow. That sounds awfully familiar.
“Sounds like somebody was a bitch.” Octavia snickered into her glass.
Mama picked up something next to her and threw it at my sister, and I busted out laughing when I realized it was a gardening glove.
“Anyway . . . I was not so wise then. I should’ve loved him properly while I had the chance.”
My heart ached a little hearing that. I remembered all the times my dad put in effort for Mama, only for her to brush it off or pretend it was no big deal. There were women who craved the kind of love and attention he poured on her. She never seemed to care, though . . . but she did take advantage of it. I didn’t want to be like that.
“I’m going to make a sandwich,” Octavia said, already standing and heading for the door.
“Bring me a water!” Mama called.
When the door clicked shut, I put my attention on Mama again. “I feel guilty about a situation similar to what you went through with Daddy.”
Her brows dipped. “How do you mean?”
“There’s this guy I’ve been working with who’s been giving me a lot of his attention. He’s so sweet and funny, but . . . I’m rejecting him.” I paused, rubbing the rim of my wineglass. “I guess I feel the same as you did. Like he deserves better. Plus, it feels too soon after Lew to even think about going that deep with anyone else. It just progressed so fast, and it completely blindsided me when I thought about it.”
Mama scanned me with her eyes, before setting her wineglass down and scooching to the end of the cushioned chair. “Who is this guy you’re talking about?”
I glanced at her. “His name is Deke.”
“Well, what does he look like?”
“Why does that matter?” I asked, cracking a smile.
“Girl, it matters a whole lot! What does he look like? I need to see who has you all torn up! I knew something else was wrong when you first walked into the house.”
I choked on a laugh as I unlocked my phone and went to Deke’s Instagram. I clicked on one of his recent pictures, where he was at a charity function at the recreational center he owned, and handed the phone to her.
She looked down at the screen the way older people tend to do, with their chins tipped and their eyes pointed downward. “That is one fine-looking man.”
I threw my head back to laugh. “Mama!”
“What? He is!” she said with a guilty smile. She handed the phone back to me and crossed her legs in the chair. “Do you wanna know one of the things I regret most in my life so far?” she asked after a stretch of silence.
“What?”
“Not having the courage to love your daddy back. I held back from him because I knew he deserved better and figured one day he’d see that and he’d walk away. But when he passed, I was heartbroken all over again, and I started looking for that love anywhere I could find it. But what I really wanted was to pour that love back into your daddy. I took such a beautiful soul for granted. If I had the chance to do it all over again, I would love him so much he couldn’t stand me.” She wore a soft smile, and I couldn’t help smiling with her, though my heart ached.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is you shouldn’t hold back based on how you feel about yourself, Davina, because at the end of the day we are our own worst critics. We’re hardest on ourselves and only see the flaws when all another person sees is the beauty.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, dropping my head.
“And don’t take this the wrong way, honey, but Lew was sick for a long time, and deep down, you knew the day when you lost him would come. You knew he’d have to go.” She swept me up in her gaze while I bit back tears. “The only difference between my situation and yours is that you had time to prepare for the worst. To accept it. But if this Deke fellow likes you the way you say he does and if you like him, why not go there? Why not try a deeper level before denying it? You have to ask yourself, what’s stopping you?”
I sniffled and wiped at my nose. “I’m scared,” I whispered as a tear crept down my cheek.
“Of what, sweetie?”
“Of him seeing the real me. Of him taking the short end of the stick because of my loss. Of having him pick up all those broken pieces and trying to mend them just to make me happy. He doesn’t need someone so damaged. He needs someone good. Someone healed. He’s such an amazing person, and I’ll only drag him down.”