Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
He shifted slightly and Fern went still, like a small animal terrified of being spotted by a predator. She took a few steps back, needing to retreat before he saw her here. Before he realized that she’d overheard every humiliating word. She wanted to spare them both the inevitable awkwardness that would follow.
When she was about halfway across the room, she swung on her heel and scurried back to her room. Feeling like a spineless little coward he already believed she was, but really not in any mood to put on a brave face right now. Not when she felt devastated and irrationally betrayed.
So stupid, she knew the man harbored no tender feelings for her. So, they’d had sex. And it had been amazing.
So what?
Fern had already resolved that it wouldn’t happen again. She knew he was bad for her. So why did confirmation of that fact sting—no damn it, not anything so mild as sting… this hurt—so badly?
She still had her pride and hearing his opinion of her was humiliating. So much for all his talk about her being brave for outmaneuvering Granger. He’d clearly only said it to stroke her ego a little and keep her compliant and content.
Feeling sick she staggered her way to the bathroom and heaved up the sparse contents of her stomach, before shakily rinsing her mouth and face. She stood for a while, palms curved over the edge of the sink, staring at her miserable reflection.
She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to spend another day in her husband’s strained company. But her options were as limited now as they’d ever been.
He might have protested and been offended when she’d claimed to have swapped one master for another but the reality was, Fern was once again desirable only for what she could offer. As an individual with opinions and feelings? Not so much.
At this point, after so many years of being treated like she was a waste of oxygen and nothing but an unwanted burden, Fern found it hard to see any glimmer of positivity in her situation. Beyond the obvious… her hand absently went to her flat abdomen in a move meant to comfort both herself and unborn child that rested there.
She recalled what Cade had said, about her using this baby as an excuse to finally take control of her life… about her seeing it as a saving grace.
But Cade knew that she wasn’t only intent on being a mother to this baby. She wanted to improve herself, find a purpose other than motherhood. The fact that he hadn’t said as much to whomever had been on the other end of the line felt like a betrayal. An omission that made her appear even more pathetic and useless to his unknown listener.
She contemplated the pristine white porcelain basin for a few long moments before shaking her head resolutely and pushing away from the vanity.
She refused to hide in her room any longer. If Cade didn’t want to be around her, he could be the one to ghost away from her presence. Fern was done being a scared mouse or moth or whatever small, prey-like creature the Hawthornes were going to liken her to next.
She tossed her shoulders back and scanned her appearance critically. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and she was wearing a new pair of denim shorts, which left her slender legs exposed from mid-thigh down, combined with a cute, cami top with a sweetheart neckline and an empire waist. Beth had insisted that the delicate shell pink color of the top complemented Fern’s pale skin and had pointed out that the empire waistline would come in handy once she started showing.
The top cupped her smalls breasts quite nicely lifting and supporting enough that she didn’t need to wear a bra with it. Still, even though she liked the outfit, Fern felt exposed. She was showing miles and miles more skin with this new wardrobe than she was used to. But she knew the shorts and top combination was quite modest by most standards.
“You’re not a nun,” she reminded her reflection critically, then immediately contradicted the sentiment by tugging at the hemline of the shorts.
Ugh.
“Stop it!” she whisper-shouted at her reflection. She was dressed like most other twenty-something-year-olds, it wasn’t a big deal.
Her self-doubt was crippling. Just seconds ago, she’d been about to flip the script on the old Fern, on her way to being brave, assertive, less timid, and afraid.
Now this.
Earlier, she’d felt confident, sexy, high on life, eager to show off another one of her new outfits to the man who’d so thoroughly rocked her world just a few hours before. Now a few overheard words from that same man had brought all her old doubts and insecurities flooding back.
Goddamnit. She was more than this.