Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“Self-esteem, low commitment, emotional needs not being met...could be lots of things. You know, this might be what leads to your inevitable divorce,” suggested Cleo. “You console the poor brokenhearted man so good he has to put a ring on you.”
“I don’t want to get married. I don’t even really want to be in a relationship. Things are fine as they are.”
“But you do want to console him.”
“If by console you mean sex then the answer is no.”
“Oh, girl.” She laughed. “You are such a liar.”
I did not blush. It was just the lighting. “It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?”
* * *
“Wow,” said Lars as he walked into the living room.
“Yeah,” I agreed glumly.
Outside, the morning sunshine shone bright, the birds were singing, and the bees were buzzing. The whole world seemed in a good mood. And why wouldn’t it be? Friday was an excellent day of the week. Hooray for the oncoming weekend. The vibe in Aunt Susan’s house, however, was less than cheerful.
Lars set down his toolbox. “Did you intend for it to be that color?”
I nodded from my position sitting cross-legged on the drop cloth covering the floor.
“And, ah, how do you feel about it now?”
I stared at the wall behind the fireplace mantel. It was probably the most offensive thing in the room. The original fireplace was pretty, surrounded with gray tiles. Then there were the big polished built-in bookcases on either side. And above those sat the ugliness. A blight upon such a charming scene.
“It was supposed to be this cool chartreuse that would look great with a navy blue sofa and chairs,” I said in a despondent tone. “I knew it wasn’t quite right. But I thought, just keep going. It’ll all come together and make perfect sense once the whole room is painted. But, Lars, it doesn’t. It just doesn’t.”
“Right.” He crossed his arms. “You’re looking a little wired. How long have you been awake?”
“All night. I couldn’t sleep. Thought I might as well get a start on painting.”
With a sigh, he knelt in front of me. “It’s not that bad.”
“It looks like Kermit the Frog exploded all over my walls.”
Lars pressed his lips together tightly. “That’s a surprisingly apt description.”
“It’s okay, you can laugh. I would laugh, if I wasn’t about to cry from sheer exhaustion and the pain of having my eyeballs assaulted by the heinous color.”
His big ass hand encompassed my shoulder and delivered a comforting rub. “It’s okay, Susie. We can fix it.”
“Another shitty choice to round out my year of brilliance.”
“Hey,” he said, voice stern. “Do not put yourself down.”
“But the money I wasted.”
“No renovation goes a hundred percent smoothly. There’s always some bumps along the way. I can get you a deal on new paint.”
“Thank you.” I took a deep breath and let it out slow. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Okay.”
“This would be better if, um... Can you sit?”
“Sure.” He mimicked my pose opposite me. “What’s up?”
“The thing is, I don’t want you to think that you’re not a great person, Lars, because you are. But sometimes people disappoint us and do the wrong thing. And it’s no reflection on us, it’s just them being a fundamentally flawed human being. You know what I mean?”
“What are we talking about?”
“Life, really.” I blew out an exaggerated breath. “Can I hold your hand?”
“You want to hold hands?”
“Yes, please. This isn’t romantic hand-holding, just to be clear. It’s the other reason people hold hands with someone.”
He frowned, though he seemed more confused than worried. And he reached his hand forward. His palm was warm and his fingers calloused. I wrapped up his hand in both of mine and mentally and emotionally shored myself to continue. “The thing with men like you is, you’re so great at hiding your emotions. I honestly have no idea how you feel about most things. So I’m just not sure how you’re going to take what I have to tell you. But I suspect there’s a warm and sensitive heart beating beneath that big chest of yours. Just because you act all tough and you’re built all brawny doesn’t mean that you don’t feel things. And I want you to know that I care about you and I’m here for you. You matter to me.”
“Thanks,” he said, tone bewildered.
“You’re welcome.”
“Is this about us being friends?”
“No.”
His thick brows rose. “Okay. Continue.”
“The thing is, last night when I was out at a bar with Cleo, Amie walked in with another man. And, Lars...they were all smooshed together. There was no doubting that something was going on.”
“Oh,” he said, eyes wide with sudden understanding.
“Please understand that I take no enjoyment from this. I’m deeply sorry to have to be the one to tell you.” I gave his hand a comforting squeeze. “You deserve better, Lars. I’m not calling her a ho, but...actually yeah, I’m calling her a ho. Because cheating is not okay. If she wanted to see other people then she should have sat down with you and had an adult conversation about both of your expectations and what it is you’re after in a relationship. And if ending it was the right choice, then—”