Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Time ticks on, and Chandler doesn’t stop accepting drinks from people.
The woman he was dancing with gave up on him two hours into his maniacal laughter.
Walker looks at me like I’ve done something wrong when he drops a beer bottle as he tries to stumble to the bathroom.
I take it as our sign to leave, directing him toward the front door instead.
Thankfully, the parking lot is nearly empty when he presses his head against my truck to piss before climbing inside with a grunt that tells me it took him more effort than it should.
“I’m going to feel like shit tomorrow,” he complains, with his face smashed to the closed window.
“Just so long as the vomit makes it into the trash or toilet, you’ll be fine.”
“I don’t puke when I drink,” he says, but he turns out to be a liar when he nearly falls off my tiny front porch so he can upchuck into the neglected bushes.
I check on him twice through the night to make sure that he’s still lying face down on the couch because I’m fearful of him choking on vomit.
I can only pray that he had time to sober up because my couch is empty by the time I wake up the following morning.
Chapter 30
Adalynn
I’m really failing at this “new me” vow I made.
I allowed myself only a minute of disappointment when Cash canceled on dinner last night.
I don’t know why I took the long way home. That’s a lie. I do know why. It’s the only way to see the police station to see if he was still there without the people in the police station being able to see me. It was locked up tight. What it also allowed was for me to see his truck parked at The Hairy Frog. I have no doubt better plans came up for him. He was probably invited out for a drink by Eastyn or something. I imagine at this point, anything would be better than dinner with my family.
It makes no sense for him to accept an invite only to back out.
When the knock comes to the front door before the sun even rises, I know it has to be him.
I press my palms to the countertop, wishing I hadn’t hit the snooze button this morning. If I had gotten up when it first went off, I’d have half of my coffee inside of me by now. I don’t have the fortification to deal with him this morning. I already didn’t sleep well last night.
“I can see your shadow moving around in there, Adalynn Tate. I’m not leaving until you open this damn door.”
I look up at the ceiling, hating the row of ugly plates lining the wall. I make another vow that I’m going to pull them down and repaint them like I’ve always wanted to, Aunt Mable be danged.
With the mood I’m in, the man should look old and ugly, but of course he’s just as handsome as ever when I pull open my front door. His scent catches on the light breeze, and I hate that I’m too familiar with his cologne. I also hate that I know he doesn’t smell like Eastyn’s stupid hand soap right now either.
“It’s too early,” I say, not stepping aside or offering to let him come inside.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to get back to us.”
I almost scoff right in his face. We haven’t been us for a while, and I’m not even thinking about how I stopped going to the bar with the hopes that he would come here and get naked with me. I’m not thinking about the dinners he’s missed at my parents’ houses.
Us ended long ago. There may not even have been a real us because I can’t think of a time that I didn’t look at him and wanted more than he was ever willing to give me. Us never existed.
I’m probably more than half responsible for all of it and I can take my part of the blame. Heck, I’d take all of it if I were given enough time to heal, but even as I look at him, I know that can never happen. I won’t heal from the void him being gone will leave.
I have no one else to blame but myself.
“I know you’re upset about not getting pregnant. I can go and get tested. Whatever you need me to do.”
“I think I’m going to use the donor,” I say, having made that decision on the drive back from the doctor’s office the other day.
“No, Adalynn. You don’t have to do that. If you want to take a month off like the doctor suggested, that’s fine, but don’t waste your money on using a donor.”
Before the pain, I might be able to convince myself that he’s saying all of this because he wants to be my child’s father, but I know better. My days of lying to myself have to be over if I have any hope of healing even a little bit from so much disappointment.