Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Or maybe I’m just bitter over him running off to his ex’s while the bed’s still warm from our love-making. Fucking. Whatever.
I get up, the bliss of my recent orgasm spiraling down into something dark and tired. I don’t use any of my firefighter speed-dress skills. In fact, I move slower than usual, out of a wee bit of spite. I hate feeling like I’m being kicked out.
“You’re welcome to stay here and sleep, if you want,” he offers, somewhat mollifying me. Maybe he’s hoping I’ll still be here when he gets back. But then he adds, “I won’t be back until late. I have to help a friend install some cabinets after the party.”
“You’re always helping someone, aren’t you?” I try, unsuccessfully to keep my tone light.
He turns a shrewd glance at me and rubs the stubble on his face. “Yeah, it’s a habit, I guess. Maybe it needs breaking.”
I force myself to throw off my foul mood. “Nah, I think it’s sweet. You like to be the hero. That’s why you’re the captain.”
His smile seems forced, but I sail past him toward the door.
“Hold up.” He sounds unhappy. He catches me around the waist and pulls me back against him. “Are you pissed?”
“No,” I sigh. It’s not really a lie. I’m not pissed, just disappointed. “I’m fine. Have fun at the party.” I turn in his arms and offer my lips.
He gives me a perfunctory kiss, but his eyes still search my face for more information.
I don’t give him the chance to sniff out my bad mood. It’s just me being small, anyway. “See ya,” I call and head out the door.
Blaze
I show up at the park near Samantha’s with a My Little Pony and a stuffed rainbow unicorn under my arm. It’s Lily’s birthday. I couldn’t possibly forget because the last time I watched her, she chatted about it non-stop. Turning four years old is a pretty exciting time.
I didn’t think twice about coming, but now that I’m here, I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing. Lily’s not my kid. She felt like my kid at one time. I saw her birth, I changed her diapers in the middle of the night, picked her up from daycare, watched her on my days off. Even now, Samantha still dumps her on me anytime she needs a sitter. Even though she doesn’t deserve my help, I always do it because I freaking love her kid. I mean, I wanted to adopt her as my own when we were together.
Maybe it’s because I just had Lia in my bed, but I suddenly question why Samantha and Lily are still in my life.
As a dozen princesses screech and race around the park, I stand there like a tool. Samantha ignores me from where she’s chatting up the other moms. Lily’s dad is nowhere to be seen, but that’s not surprising. The guy’s less than engaged with his daughter.
Maybe that’s why I keep sticking around. I feel bad for Lily and the stupid choices her mother makes.
But no.
I don’t wish I was still with Samantha and Lily. Not at all. In fact, I’m really fucking glad I’m not still carrying their weight. It was a whole lot of effort and responsibility without any thanks.
From Samantha.
Lily’s always generous with preschooler hugs. She sees me now and comes racing over, throwing herself into the air. I catch her and swing her around, planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Hi, Mac,” she says, using the name Samantha calls me by.
Samantha walks over and I set Lily down to run back to her friends.
“Hey. Can you go up to my apartment and carry the coolers down? They’re super heavy.” No hi. No please. Just another request.
This is nothing new and yet I’m seeing it through different eyes. I try to picture this scene with Lia instead of Samantha. Like if Lia and I had a kid together.
Whoa. That thought sends billows of warmth crowding out my chest.
Lia wouldn’t be giving me orders. First of all, she’d be pulling her own weight because she’s a hard-worker and doesn’t shrink from shit jobs. But second of all, she’s sweet and grateful. She lets me lead. She says thank you and sorry.
I turn and walk toward the apartment.
“You have a key?” Samantha calls. “Oh yeah, you do, right?” Yeah, I do. Because of all the times I’ve brought Lily home here and stayed with her after I put her to bed. Or when I had to stop by and pick up shit she was supposed to have at preschool. Or when Samantha called me to fix her leaking sink while she was at work.
Jesus. I’m a chump. When did I confuse my urge to take care of people with becoming a doormat?
I hold up my keys and keep going. I don’t bother answering. Of course I’m not going to say no—I’m the only big guy here. But it’s suddenly really fucking clear to me that I’m the chump being used.