Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Yesterday, I’d wallowed. I’d had every right to do so. The wedding was off. But I couldn’t stay in that feeling forever. At some point, I was going to have to act.
As much of this was my fault as Whitley’s. I’d asked her to be my fake girlfriend. I cajoled her into going to the wedding. I introduced her to my friends and family. I even convinced her that this would be the right step for her dad. I never stopped to think about the potential consequences. I’d been too far gone.
Consequences had happened anyway.
I rolled out of Maggie’s guest bed, still dressed in my wrinkled shirt from the day before. I didn’t want to go back to my apartment. I couldn’t face the space where my wife was supposed to be sprawled across my bed.
Instead, I crept out of the bedroom to an empty apartment. Maggie had left a thermos of coffee on the kitchen island with a note, telling me to help myself.
“Bless you, Mags,” I groaned as I poured myself a mug.
Splashing interrupted my drink.
Locke was home.
I yawned and headed toward the enormous pool at the other end of the house. I opened the glass door to find him swimming laps at such an incredible speed that I could barely track him in the pool. After a few minutes, he lifted his head from the water and looked up at me in surprise.
“Hey, you’re finally up,” Locke said. He hoisted himself out of the water and threw a towel haphazardly across his body. He was fucking rock solid.
Maybe I should take up swimming.
“I’m up.”
“Sorry to hear about what happened. Any way I can help?”
“Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow some clothes.”
Locke nodded. “Sure. Help yourself. Room is at the end of the hall. Take whatever you need.”
“Thanks, man.” I started toward the door but stopped. “Sorry about … your marriage too.”
Locke’s eyes hardened. “We don’t all get what we want.”
“No,” I agreed slowly. “I guess not.”
“But good luck.”
Then, he dived back into the pool, continuing his morning workout.
I left the pool behind and wandered into Locke’s bedroom. We weren’t exactly the same shape. He had broad shoulders and a trimmer waist, but we were about the same height. So, I found a pair of slacks and a button-up that didn’t smell like the inside of a bar, and after changing, I headed out of my cousin’s apartment.
I called English on the way downstairs.
“I don’t feel comfortable giving you that information, Gavin,” she said diplomatically.
“English, I don’t have time for this. Whit isn’t your client. You’re not breaching confidentiality. Take your publicist hat off for a goddamn minute and think about your best friend.”
“I am thinking about my best friend. She doesn’t want to see you.”
“I’m not going there to see her, So, give me the goddamn name.”
She sighed heavily. “Fine. But don’t tell her I told you.”
“Thank you. I owe you one.”
“More than one,” she grumbled.
With the hospital name in hand, I called a car and headed across town. I didn’t know how to fix what was broken with me and Whitley, but I knew where to start.
Walking through the ER as I headed to Whitley’s father’s room made me wish that I’d gone for a suit. Even though Locke and I couldn’t possibly share suit coats. I wanted the reassurance of a solid suit coat and tie. A button-up didn’t feel like enough as I went to my grave.
I stopped in front of the room Whitley’s dad was currently staying in. I took a deep breath and knocked softly. A minute later, Whitley’s mom answered the door with eyes widened in shock.
“Gavin?”
“Hi, Cynthia,” I said with my sharpest smile.
“What … what are you doing here? Whitley isn’t here. She went home.”
“That’s okay. I’m not here to see Whit. I’m here to talk to Walter … if he’s awake.”
She blinked at me in surprise. “He is, but …”
“Who is it, Cynthia?” Walter’s deep voice called from inside the room.
She closed her eyes once in panic. “Don’t say anything to upset him.”
“I don’t intend to, ma’am.”
A small smile came to her mouth. “Well, at least someone remembers manners. I’ll let you talk to him for a few minutes, but please be careful. He’s fragile right now.”
“I will, and … thank you.”
She touched my arm as she passed. “I’m going to go find us some breakfast and give you some privacy.”
“Cynthia?” Walter called again.
I took another fortifying breath and then walked inside. “Good morning, sir.”
Walter’s eyes bulged. He looked worse for wear. As if the last twenty-four hours had drained so much of the life out of him. He’d been fighting for this wedding, and now, without something to look forward to, combined with our argument, the fight had been taken out of him.
“Gavin, I didn’t expect to see you.”