Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
He smiles at me, his cheekbones turning slightly pink. “Thank you.”
I wave him off, “Don’t thank me.”
“I should go and check on the decorators,” his tongue teases his lower lip. “We’ll go out to eat, the stench of paint is irritating me.”
I smile fondly, “Everything irritates you.”
“Of course,” he grins and touches my cheek with his thumb, I shy away instantly but he doesn’t seem offended. “Get ready.”
“Kay,” I scuff my sock on the ground, praying that his intense gaze lingers on me no longer.
“Fifteen minutes, Guinevere,” he says my name quietly, like a gentle caress on my skin, before leaving the room completely.
Caleb’s eyes catch me from my bedside table, I stare at him for a long time, imagining his eyes glaring at me with accusation. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, desperate for him to believe that it was nothing more than a moment of weakness and Nathan is nothing more than a friend. He doesn’t believe me, I can feel it.
But it’s true.
Whoa, dizzy. Strange.
Must be my low blood pressure, my eyes just turned black for a moment there. I need to stop stressing myself out over little things, it’s not healthy. Caleb isn’t here, he’s not coming back.
Even though I know I’ll never let him go, I need to stop trying to run all of my decisions past him first. He’s not here to answer me and I’m twisting what his answers would be in my mind to make myself feel worse.
I deserve it, I deserve to feel worse.
We enjoy a quiet dinner at a restaurant out of town, Nathan doesn’t say much and neither do I. There’s not much to say.
I spend the entire time looking at everything but him, this is really awkward so I’m relieved when my phone rings.
“Hello?” I answer, turning away from Nathan to give myself some semblance of privacy.
“I messed up,” it’s my mum. What? “I should never have sent you away I was just so angry and disappointed.”
“Okay,” I move away from Nathan, his hand comes out and snags my wrist. Placing my hand over the speaker I turn to him, “I’ll be one minute.”
“Who is it?” He asks, making me quirk a brow.
I walk away without responding and step into the cold air.
“Where are you?” She asks on a sniff.
“I’ve travelled south for the winter,” I respond and clear my throat. “I’m staying with a friend.”
She lets out a long breath, “I want you to come home.”
“Home?”
“Yeah, I want to be there for my grandbaby and my first baby. I know… I screwed up. But I want to make it up to you.”
I shift nervously on the spot, placing my finger in my other ear to stop the wind from distorting my ability to hear her. “Why the change of heart?”
“I’ve had some time to calm down and think about it.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve come around,” I say and look through the window, noticing Nathan’s eyes on me. “I’ll have to let you know if I’m coming home, I’m… it’s complicated.”
“Can I at least come and see you?”
Can she? Do I want her to?
She is my mum. Gah, this is so frustrating. “Sure. Just let me sort a few things first.”
“You’re, umm… not staying in a hostel or something are you?”
I smile a little, “No, Mum, I swear. I’m in a very good and safe place with a friend.”
She sighs with relief, “I’m sorry for what I said. How are you doing? With everything. I should have been there for you.”
“Yeah,” I say, my eyes burning. “You should have.”
I hear her sniff and my heart pounds a heavy rhythm in my chest. “I’ll be there, I swear. Call me. I miss you.”
“You too.” I hang up and chew on my lip for a moment, my phone clutched tightly in my hand.
After taking a steady breath I walk back into the restaurant and make my way over to Nathan.
As soon as I get close enough he asks, “Problem?”
“No,” I lie, this is a problem in a sense. How exactly do I deal with this? “It was my mum.”
“The one who disowned you?”
“The one and only,” I slide into my seat and rest my chin on my hand. “She said she’s sorry, she was angry and disappointed and never should have reacted that way.”
He scoffs and runs his fingers through his hair, “I don’t care much for your mother.”
“She wants me to go home,” my voice is a low whisper, but he hears me. I know this because his body shifts and his tongue swipes his lower lip.
He clears his throat and casually moves his straw around his glass, “Are you going?”
“Not without speaking to you first,” I watch his straw swirl through the clear liquid.
His face drops, “Would you like to go?”
Would I? “It’d get me out of your way, you could go back to your life without having to worry about me.”