Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
“When you were here for me when she died and at her funeral, it meant so much. When you finally started to let me in, let yourself fall that afternoon, it was everything. I… I’m sorry I fucked it up,” he says.
I swallow down a lump of emotion, eyes filling with tears.
“I’m sorry for all the times I made you sad, scared, angry.”
I nod, chin trembling.
“And you should know… I’d do it all over again to be right here, you looking at me like this, my child growing inside you.”
“I know,” I tell him, handing him the rings.
He carefully puts them on my ring finger and kisses it.
“I love you, Derek,” I tell him. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m so ready for you to make me happy. I’m so ready to make you happy, too.”
“The doctors didn’t fix me, Chloe,” he reminds me.
“Good,” I say.
Two Weeks Later, Portsmouth, NH
“Oh wow. It’s gorgeous,” she exclaims, as we pull up to the house. “And it’s on the water!”
“Wait till you see it in the summer, little bunny. It’s a great place to unplug.”
“It’s amazing.”
Grace wanted us to come for Christmas. Dad came. So did Ash and Jonah. Grace laid the guilt on thick, but I couldn’t bear to share Chloe with anyone.
Her company shut down from Christmas Eve until New Year’s Day, so we spent most of that time in bed, other than putting up a Christmas tree together, and then painting the closet and master bathroom together, which devolved into painting my name on my wife’s naked body with my fingers.
I shared her on New Year’s Eve: with her parents, who came and spent the night, ringing in a new year with a cutthroat game of Monopoly. It was my throat that got cut the most.
The love and light in her eyes as she played a board game with me and her folks told me even more about the woman I’m obsessed with.
Now she smiles for me. She reaches for me. And as much as I can’t get enough of fucking her, she initiates fucking almost as often as I do. My dirty girl. My greedy girl. My good girl.
The Turners are cutthroat at the game of Monopoly, which I never played before New Year’s Eve. So is Chloe Steele, who bankrupted me without hesitation. I want her bringing that game here to the New Hampshire homestead next summer. Grace has already begun organizing a family week where we’re all here at the same time. I want Chloe to challenge my father to a game so he can see who he might be smart to leave his real estate empire to.
Chloe said she didn’t want to announce the pregnancy until after her twelve-week appointment, but she blurted it to her mother not five minutes after Pam and Hal arrived. She did it with so much excitement that if I hadn’t already fallen in love with my wife, that would’ve done it. Pam almost immediately got on her phone and began ordering baby gifts.
I found Chloe and her mother hugging and crying on New Year’s Day morning. I was concerned, but found out they were playing Yahtzee, a dice game Chloe’s folks brought, and it was discovered that the very last time the game was played, it was a game between Chloe and her late brother. The last used scorecard was in a teenaged Chloe’s purple marker, but her brother won the game and circled his name, writing “winner”, circling Chloe’s and writing “loser.” He drew a male stick figure with a winner trophy in his stick hand and a sad faced stick figure with a bow in her hair beside Chloe’s final score.
While it hurt to see the emotion on my wife’s face at these memories, those tears transitioned to laughter as memories of family game nights and stories of Bryan Turner’s competitive and irreverent humor were shared.
I saw love between Chloe and her parents. Not neglect, formality, or indifference. I saw a family trying to heal after enduring pain of losing one of their own. I think they’re still healing.
So am I. So is the rest of my family. Healing from wounds. Healing from trauma. I don’t miss my dead brother. Good riddance. I do miss my late mother. More than I thought I would. And the rest of us might not all be on the same page about everything; we might still be considered corrupt and elitist rich pricks, but I’m on speaking terms with everyone including my father, who is making an effort. So am I.
Naomi and Ash haven’t bridged the gap in their relationship, but they were much less hostile toward one another at that family breakfast the day after my mother’s funeral. It was their birthday on New Year’s Day and Grace told me Naomi sent Ash a happy birthday text. The first one in about a decade. It’s a start. Grace told Chloe during a one-hour phone call on Christmas Eve that Nay and Josh’s marriage is in trouble. My wife and sister seem like they’re getting close. Good. Gets Grace off my back.