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)
I picked it up, and my heart pounded a little bit faster as I read it.
Hey D,
Didn’t want to wake you up. You were sleeping peacefully and I figured you needed the rest after the way I put it down on you. Want to see you again soon. I’ll call you when it’s calmer on my end.
Btw you’re so pretty when you sleep. Hope I get to see you like that again.
Deke
I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me. Put it down on me? He was silly. I liked that about him, though, and it felt good knowing he’d enjoyed me the night before too.
Of course, if he didn’t get around to texting or calling me, then maybe he’d left the note as a courtesy. I was a little rusty, I admit, and I was sure he’d had sex with women ten times better than me. I would’ve understood him not coming back for seconds, though it would’ve hurt the hell out of my feelings.
I shoved that thought aside and folded the floor mattress, cleaned up my greasy dinner from last night, then collected my sandals and purse. When I locked up the office, I walked barefoot through the building to reach the parking lot.
It wasn’t until I was in the car and driving that I thought of Deke all over again.
His hot mouth on my skin.
The way he kissed me like he owned me, like my lips were the only lips he wanted to feel.
The way we talked until we fell asleep with such ease, like we’d known each other our whole lives.
I ordered a quick coffee from my favorite family-owned coffee shop and drove home. When I walked in and dumped my things on the table, I couldn’t help looking at the pictures on the wall.
Lew was everywhere, and I expected to feel a sense of betrayal or a pang of guilt when I saw them, but for once, I didn’t. It caught me by surprise.
Something had shifted since the last time I’d set foot in my house . . . or maybe I was still drowning in lust and delirium and couldn’t be bothered with sadness.
I sipped my coffee and stared at a wedding portrait of us on one of the bookshelves. I smiled at the couple smiling back at me. Yeah. Something is definitely changing.
I glanced down at the wedding rings on my finger. The diamond glittered from the recessed lighting, and my eyes stung. I blinked, cooling the burn and setting my coffee down.
I headed to my bedroom and hovered by the bed a moment, taking note of the tiny changes that’d happened in the last couple of weeks.
The changed sheets, the dusted blinds, and Lew’s clothes packed into containers, which were stacked neatly beneath the window.
The vintage hat rack, now with more space since I organized his baseball caps in the closet.
These were all small changes—baby steps I took with Octavia that I didn’t realize were so monumental at the time.
I’d wanted to keep my house the same and let Lew’s former presence linger so I could find him in every corner, in every accidental spill of juice on the carpet, and even the SNICKERS candy wrappers on his side of the bed.
A few days after he died, I’d found a SNICKERS wrapper beneath his side and couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. I’d let it sit there for weeks just to look at it and remember the way the caramel drooped to his chin with every first bite of his favorite chocolate bar.
I turned toward my dresser in the corner and opened the jewelry box on top of it. The box was made of black velvet, with glass knobs. Lew had given it to me as a Christmas gift two years ago.
I released a ragged breath as I looked down at my wedding rings. My fingers were shaking, and my throat thickened with emotion. I swallowed to remove the blockage building in my throat, then inhaled as I twisted them off.
I’d never taken them off—not since Lew and I got married . . . but we weren’t married anymore, were we? I was a widow who grieved my husband’s loss every single day, but what Tish said the night before rang true.
There was no dedicated time to accept someone’s loss, to be happy, or to embrace a new chapter. There was only today and the future. Lewis was never coming back to me, and for the first time in months, I was willing to accept that.
All this time, I’d had this stupid notion in my head that if I hung on long enough—if I thought about him hard enough—he would materialize in some way. I’d imagined he’d reappear, waltz through the front door of our house, and wrap me in his arms.