Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Inside her bedroom, I opened the sliding closet doors. One of the doors was off the track and almost came crashing down onto my head. Princess fucker fixes nothing, I see. There was no sign of men’s clothes in the closet, which made me feel somewhat vindicated after the bathroom medicine cabinet find.
On top of her dresser, there were a few framed photographs, one of which I presumed to be Aubrey and her dad at her law school graduation. She was looking at him as he looked at the camera proudly. I remembered he was a lawyer, too. There were a few others. One of her and a friend as teenagers. Another of an older woman and Aubrey. They looked alike; it must have been her grandmother. The last picture caused a crushing sensation in my chest. It was of her and Dick…with Pixy sitting between them. Mutton, you damn traitor. As much as it hurt to look at it, I couldn’t stop staring at it for a full five minutes. Aubrey was smiling widely. She looked…happy. That should have been me.
I’d seen just about all I could take and was about to walk out of her bedroom, when I stopped in front of the last dresser drawers. My eyes fixated on the top drawer, which was square—the type you keep your underwear in. Seeing as I was already an asshole today, I slid it open. Inside was filled with lace. And a note.
Cocky – since you have nothing better to do, how about fixing the closet doors?
I laughed for a full five minutes. We knew each other so well. Then I fixed the closet doors.
I hadn’t heard from her since yesterday morning. I was hopeful maybe tomorrow she would text, excited as hell when my phone flashed her name at almost nine in the evening.
Aubrey: Thank you for fixing the doors, pervert.
Chance: Anything for you.
A few minutes passed. I wasn’t sure if I should apologize for my obvious snooping or not.
Aubrey: You didn’t try any on, did you?
Chance: I’m more of a sniffer than a cross dresser. Plus, I like your ass in lace, not mine.
Aubrey: Very funny.
Chance: I wasn’t kidding about liking your ass in lace.
My phone went quiet. Clearly, I’d moved this conversation from friend territory. I figured why not push my luck a bit more.
Chance: I miss you. When can I see you again?
Aubrey: How about a dog walk tomorrow afternoon? My last appointment at the office should be done by 4.
Chance: I’ll meet you at the shelter at 4:30
Aubrey: OK.
Chance: Good night, Princess.
Aubrey: Night, Chance.
The next afternoon, we met at the shelter. Aubrey arrived after me, looking as beautiful as always in her fancy suit. But when she disappeared into the bathroom and came out wearing jeans, a white t-shirt, flip flops and a pony tail, she looked fucking phenomenal. I couldn’t help but stare at her as we each leashed up two dogs and headed for the park.
“What? You’re looking at me like something is wrong?”
“Just looking at you. I’m not sure if it’s possible, but I think you get more beautiful every time I see you.”
She was quiet as we entered the park. We walked for a while and then sat on a bench. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What was it like? In prison, I mean?”
I suppose it made sense for her to wonder what I’d spent the last two years actually doing. Seeing as all I had done for two years was wonder what she was up to. She was catching up.
“It was…degrading. Overcrowded, yet solidary at the same time.”
“Did you have any visitors?”
“Adele came to see me, every other Saturday.”
“What about your Mom? Is she still taking care of your ill grandmother?”
“No, she passed.”
Aubrey looked over at me. Her face fell. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless. Your grandmother was ill. I should have realized.”
“You couldn’t have known.” I cleared my throat. “They’re both gone now, actually. Mum died of an aneurysm the first year.”
“Oh my God, Chance. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
I opened the water bottle I was carrying and fed some to the panting pooches. Aubrey was still looking at me when the bottle was empty. So I gave her my full attention and waited to hear what she was thinking about.
A tear rolled down her face before she spoke. “You’ve lost so much.”
I wiped it away and cupped her cheek. She leaned into my touch. I could barely breathe remembering all that I lost. “Yes. I did.” I closed my eyes briefly to pull myself together. When I reopened them, Aubrey was still watching me. So I continued. “Sometimes, it takes losing everything to make you realize what you really need.”
She laced my fingers with hers and squeezed. We sat on the bench like that for another hour before the four dogs we were exercising decided it was time to get back up. I told her about the soccer clinic I started in prison. She told me about everything she did to get the animal shelter up and running. Her firm allowed her to do a sizeable amount of pro bono work, which made her happy. It sounded as if she had found the type of balance she was still figuring out she wanted two years ago.