Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I moved away from the dark corner near the potted plant, closer to where I was previously seated. The area was better lit, and I needed to see every word typed on the page. I had a feeling they were about to change my evening plans.
I exhaled a deep breath and started reading the second page.
Dear Lucas,
Thank you for continuing to read my letter. What I’m about to tell you will come as quite a shock. I would suggest you sit down before reading further.
Taking her advice, I found my way to the couch and glanced over at the baby, seeing her better from where I sat. Her thumb was no longer in her mouth, her arm hanging lifeless at her side while she slept.
She had pink, rosebud lips and chubby cheeks. She hadn’t missed a meal…or a bottle, as the case may be. My eyes went back to the letter.
While I was in New York City, I kept a part of my personal life hidden from you and the service that employed me. I was engaged to another man. I regret not being truthful with you. You deserved my honesty.
I knew if the service found out I had a fiancé living back in my hometown of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, they wouldn’t hire me. As you know, I’d lost a major modeling job and didn’t have enough money to finish out my last year at NYU. I was desperate, so I presented myself as a single woman, untangled and free. All lies.
My fiancé couldn’t afford the high cost of living in the city, so he waited for me to graduate, then joined me out in California. We stayed with high school friends until we found work.
Things were finally looking good for us, and we moved into our own apartment. Two weeks later, what I thought was the flu ended up being the child with you tonight. Esmé was born nine months to the day after I left New York last August. It was also the day after I said goodbye to you.
I stared at the last sentence. Bowing my head, I closed my eyes, letting the reality of the words sink in and twist in my gut.
She had left New York the day after we had sex in my apartment, which included the dining room table, over the couch from hell, and ending up in my bed. She had an insatiable appetite, and we ended up fucking on surfaces we’d never touched before. I’d never seen her so aggressive, but hell, I hadn’t minded one damn bit. She’d let me tie her up with the restraints under the bed and do things to her she hadn’t cared to try before. I thought it was a thank you for giving her a pile of cash.
I shook my head. None of it made any sense. How could she have been like that with me knowing she would see the man she planned to marry—what? The next day in LA?
The truth about her and us made me wonder if our time together had been nothing more than a dress rehearsal. Well, she should prepare her Oscar speech—her performance with me would earn one.
I had to face the important question at hand. She implied I was the father. Could it even be possible? What in the hell was she implying by sharing all this news to me? Where did I fit in? The service required her to be on the pill, but had she been? She’d pretended to be single, so she could have made that up too. One good thing, I never had sex without a condom. Having once been burned by a fiery redhead at the age of twenty-seven, I trusted no one.
I placed the page I’d just read on the coffee table. There were two more. Coco’s untouched glass of Macallan scotch was in my reaching distance. Without a thought, I downed it like a shot. The amber liquid warmed my throat, but I doubted it would soothe my mind. I’d settle for a little numbing, though. I set the glass back down on the coaster and read on.
I believed the child I was carrying belonged to my boyfriend, Peter. We weren’t as careful as we should’ve been, considering I lost my pills somewhere in the move. Peter urged me to keep the child, and I didn’t have the heart not to, even though I was scoring some auditions for minor TV parts. Being tall helped me hide the pregnancy until I was six months along. At that point, I’d put on too much weight for the camera and ended up cleaning one of the producer’s houses to help pay the bills.
After Esmé was born, I worked my butt off—literally. I started auditioning again as the weight dropped off, and had a promising callback for a major studio movie. I hit the jackpot when I was given a supporting character role. I had two weeks to prepare for shooting in Europe. But there was one big problem: Esmé was only three months old. The studio didn’t know I had a small child, and I was afraid to tell them. Peter promised he’d take care of her while I was gone, even though it was for two months, maybe three. With my new salary, I could afford a decent daycare, so I started packing.