Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131486 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“I think Edward’s having an affair,” Soledad blurts.
Hendrix and I exchange wide-eyed stares, and I slip off the couch, landing between the two of them on the floor.
“What makes you say that?” I ask.
Her laugh is the most caustic, biting thing I’ve ever heard from Soledad. “Him saying her name in his sleep every night?”
“What’s that heifer’s name?” Hendrix asks.
“Amber.” Soledad blinks at tears. “I told him he said her name in his sleep, and he said Amber’s his new assistant, and that things are so stressful at work, he’s probably just taking it into his subconscious.”
“Does that man think you were born yesterday at two o’clock?” Hendrix rolls her eyes. “Don’t gimme that bullshit.”
“What are you gonna do, Sol?” I ask.
“I’m not sure yet.” She shrugs. “It hasn’t happened again for the last week, but I can’t just turn a blind eye.”
“No, you cannot,” I agree. “What can we do?”
“Right now?” Soledad begins and sighs. “Nothing. I’ll figure it out. I’m watching him to see if there’s actually a devil behind this bush. After I just forced your secret out, Yas, I didn’t want to keep this from you.”
“Speaking of keeping things from you,” Hendrix pauses, splitting a look between Sol and me. “There’s some shit with Mama I haven’t told you.”
“Hen, what’s going on?” I ask, squeezing her hand.
“Remember Mama’s famous German chocolate cake we had on New Year’s Eve?” she asks. “I made it. Mama tried, but the eggs were still kind of raw and there were clumps of flour in it. She just…she can’t remember her recipes. She’s forgetting more and more, and now seems to be having delusions about someone breaking into the house. She’s called the cops several times. They…”
She stops, swallows, blinks furiously.
“They called me and said we can’t leave things as they are, and that I may need to consider finding a place for her.”
“Oh, gosh, Hen,” Soledad says. “I’m so sorry.”
“I think it’s just starting to sink in that there’s no going back, ya know?” Hendrix offers a watery smile, and it’s the closest I’ve seen her to tears. “It’s a debilitating disease, and things will only get worse. I’m not sure which part is harder. Losing her or watching her lose me.”
Hendrix hiccups, letting out a shoulder-shaking sob. We gather her into our arms, the three of us huddled together, unique in our challenges, but twined in our love, our support for one another. Maybe if I’d had this when everything fell apart, I could have held it together, but I want to stop what-iffing my life. Little by little I’m learning to do the best I can and live with the consequences. To love fiercely and to forgive myself when that’s not enough.
It’s not the lighthearted girls’ night we anticipated, but a night when we confide our deepest fears and shine light on the things we’ve kept hidden in the dark.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Yasmen
Slumping in the cushioned seat, I force myself to watch the presentation on the large screen. The lights in Harrington’s auditorium are down, and Dr. Morgan, the headmistress, is saying something about a new wing for the library. Just when my eyes start crossing and I’m on the verge of nodding off, a large hand grips my thigh, squeezes. I straighten in my seat, an indrawn breath loud to my own ears. In the dark, I cast a sideways glance at Josiah, seated beside me, watching the screen with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow like it has his full attention. Slowly, he lifts the jacket from his lap and places it over mine. Beneath the jacket, his hand inches up my thigh and comes to rest between my legs, his touch burning a hole through my jeans.
I clutch his wrist, stopping his progress. He looks over at me in the dim light, one eyebrow cocked. He leans over to whisper in my ear.
“Are you telling me no?” he asks, his breath on my neck eliciting a shiver.
I lean up to his ear. “I’m telling you not now.”
“Why not?” His smile is devilish. “I’d love everyone to hear how you sound when you scream my name.”
I don’t remember being a loud lover during our marriage, but every time we have sex, it feels like a three-alarm fire and I scream like a siren. I can’t help it. This time around, I feel freer than I ever have. We always had extraordinary chemistry, now it feels even hotter. Every touch, every time, like walking across the sun. When I think it cannot possibly get any better, we reach some new level, climbing clouds to reach the next high.
I gasp when his palm presses hard between my legs, moving beneath the cover of darkness and his jacket to rub me through the denim. My breath shortens and, involuntarily, my legs spread wider, making room for him. I give in to it, lying back in the seat. I turn my head to look at him, and he’s watching me. Our gazes lock and wrestle in the barely there light of the auditorium. I want to beg him to stop and I want to jerk my jeans down so I can feel his fingers. He licks his lips, his eyes dropping to my lap, where, beneath his jacket, my hips roll into his touch. I swallow a moan, bite my lip, and squeeze my eyes shut as I release breath in short, tight gasps. I grip the armrest and press my heels into the cement floor, silently begging my body for control, but unwilling to ask him to stop.