Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll let you know how she’s doing.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say, finally letting her go.
The boys and I head out shortly after, and we’ve only been gone for half an hour when I get a text from Dani.
Dani - Tried calling the home phone, there was no answer, so tried Gretchen. Soph sent her home early. She was really tired and wanted to call it a night. I’ll try her again in the morning.
Tank - K. Thanks.
I hang out with the guys for a little while longer, but something doesn’t sit right with me about Dani’s text. Sophie has never sent Gretchen home early. Even when she’s tired, she just goes to sleep and lets Gretchen work silently around her.
I decide it’s probably best to head home and make sure she’s okay. I’m probably the last person she wants to see, but she’s been alone in that big house for who knows how long, and too many bad thoughts circle my mind. The last time she was left alone . . . Shit.
“Hey,” I announce to the guys, standing up. “I’m going to head home and check on Sophie.”
They all nod their heads and say their goodbyes before Miller stands up with me. “I might head off too. Dani’s been taking the night shift and could use a break.”
They all give him comments about being soft and a pussy, just as I knew they would, but he shakes it off and follows me out the door, knowing damn well where his priorities lie.
I drop him home before making my way through my front door and dumping my shit just inside. I’m freaking exhausted, and I can’t wait to crash beside my girl. Hell, maybe even tonight she might let me pull her into my arms and hold her while I sleep. Don’t get me wrong, she always ends up there, but it’s done out of habit while she’s asleep. That’s not what I need from her.
Fuck. I see her every day, try to hold her every day, kiss her every fucking day, and yet I’ve never missed her so goddamn much.
Our home is dead quiet, so I try to keep it that way. The last thing I want is to wake her, especially since she hasn’t been sleeping well. The nightmares have a chokehold on her, forcing her to relive the worst day of her life over and over again.
Kicking off my shoes at the front door, I head into the kitchen for a drink and cut across to the fridge, not bothering to find a cup. Grabbing the milk, I uncap the lid and go to lift it to my lips when I see a note on the counter, illuminated by the refrigerator light. I don’t think anything of it, considering it’s probably just an update from Gretchen about Sophie’s night, but as I tilt my head back to take a swig from the bottle, a subtle sparkle catches my eye.
My brows furrow and my stomach sinks. They’re Sophie’s rings.
Discarding the milk, I dart across the kitchen and turn on the light before racing back to the counter and picking up her rings between my fingers. I hold them tightly as my eyes scan over the note a million times, my world fucking world burning to ashes at my feet.
I’m sorry. I love you.
Over my dead fucking body.
Slipping her rings onto my pinky fingers, I grab my shit before running straight back out the door. I’m in my truck in no time, the engine roaring back to life before I screech out of the driveway and groan at just how fucking slowly the gate creeps open.
I rush down the highway, the road flying by beneath me, and I’m pulling up at the airport in no time. I don’t know how I know, but my gut is telling me she went home to Denver. If that’s where she feels she needs to be right now, then that’s exactly where I’ll be.
Hurrying through the airport, I buy my ticket before waiting the agonizing two hours for the next scheduled flight.
I try to get some rest, but I can’t turn off. My mind keeps spinning, and I do everything in my power not to send myself into a downward spiral. What would have driven her to the point of leaving in the middle of the night? She knows she can always talk to me, whenever or wherever. I will always have time for her. I know she blames herself for losing our son, and I have told her a million times that I don’t, but she never listens. Maybe all she needs is to just hear me for once. Let go of the grief and just hear me. Let me in and allow me to love her the way she deserves to be loved.