Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“Oh, my God, you really do think I’m an idiot, don’t you? You’d say anything to get your own way. You’d even lie about something you know is deeply important to me. That’s despicable, Ben. Let’s continue this conversation when you find your integrity again. Because right now, you’ve stooped so damned low, even a snake in the grass would stand taller than you.”
She tossed down her napkin and stormed off the terrace, fury lending wings to her feet.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Messy and crazy and complicated
There were flowers in front of Lilah’s bedroom door the following morning. Freshly picked, likely from the garden, they were wrapped in newspaper and propped up against the doorframe. A note was placed in between the dew dampened petals.
She sucked in an impatient breath. Of course, he’d be doubling down now. The foolish, stubborn man.
She crumpled up the note, and shoved it into her robe pocket and carried the flowers downstairs. The house was quiet, and she guessed he—and Fifi—must have gone to the office already. The aroma of coffee, mingled with his aftershave, lingered in the air, and she inhaled deeply, ashamed of how addictive she found the smell of him.
She found a vase for the flowers and left it on the counter.
She made herself a pot of green tea, happy that the nausea seemed to be at bay this morning. A white envelope on the kitchen counter caught her eye and she carried her mug over to the couch and sat down on one of the bar stools to stare at it. It was her letter from Gramps. On the envelope, in pencil—written in Ben’s hand—was the note:
Lilah poured a cup of tea, and lifted the envelope, staring at Ben’s words. He was right, she had regretted leaving it behind. She was happy he’d been considerate enough to save it for her. The envelope was creased and tear-stained. Lilah ran the flat of her palm over it in a futile attempt to smooth out the creases.
“Oh, Gramps,” she sighed.
She took a sip of her tea and removed the letter from the envelope again and re-read it. She smiled through a haze of tears when she read:
Gramps had always been such a—usually successful—schemer. So how the hell could he have been so wrong about Ben and Lilah?
They’re weren’t good for each other; all they did was snap and snarl and hurt each other. But God help her, she did love the fool man and that was her failing. Her curse. This foolish, futile love for a man who liked being an isolated island. And anyone who drifted too close would be smashed to pieces on the jagged rocks he’d put up to shield himself from any intruders.
But he did have a tender side, the side he kept hidden from the rest of the world. She’d seen it in the way he respected and cared for Gramps, the way he always tried to look out for her, the way he could talk her through an asthma attack. She’d seen the little considerations, like bringing drinks for her friends, ensuring his pantry and fridge were stocked with her favorite food and drinks. Knowing her favorite snacks and beverages when even Lilah wasn’t aware that she had such clear preferences.
She thought back to his caginess when she’d asked him about the new phrase he’d used the other day. It had been an endearment; she knew that much, but she didn’t think he’d been honest about the meaning
She wasn’t sure of the spelling but did a quick voice search. It took three attempts before the search engine finally recognized her pronunciation as the Scottish endearment mo chridhe meaning my heart.
Her hand covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle a sob. He’d appeared shocked when she’d asked him about it, seeming not to have realized that he’d used it.
Why would he—
Her phone dinged, thankfully dragging her from her confusing thoughts, and she swiped at the screen to check the message.
He was typing and typing and typing… after nearly a minute his response floated onto the screen.
Judging from the amount of typing he’d done, and the amount of time it had taken for him to respond, Lilah guessed that there was a lot left unsaid in that one, mild okay.
She considered her response.
Lilah didn’t reply. Instead, she firmly put both text and that confusing, sweet endearment from her mind while she finished her tea.
She’d carved out half of the day for this appointment, instructing Kirby to rearrange her schedule to accommodate the shoots she had to postpone today. She’d go in to the studio to do some admin later, but she wasn’t sure she’d be up to people’ing regardless of the outcome of her gynecologist appointment.
The teddy bear was too much. Ben stared down doubtfully down at the medium-sized plush brown and gold bear he held tightly clutched in both hands and considered tossing it into the car boot. But it was too late to do that, the car was parked further down the road—it was murder finding parking in the city—and the glass door leading out to the street of the gynecologist’s office swung open to reveal Lilah. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and didn’t immediately notice him when the wind grabbed at her skirt and lifted her hair. She battled to keep both in check, her startled half-shriek, half-laugh snatched away by the same rude wind.