Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“Morning.” Tia smiles, wide awake and chipper. Her greeting directs my eyes down to her ring finger. It’s bare. No proposal yet?
“Morning.” I join them, seeing the dogs dashing around garden out the window. I help myself to the pot of coffee, returning Lo’s smile. “Where’s Trent?”
“Still sleeping. His body clock is all over the place.” Tia slurps her coffee, looking over her mug at me with high brows.
The coffee pot pauses in midair as I go to set it down. “What?”
“You forgot to put some clothes on.”
I look down my torso to my boxers and my bare thighs and shrug, hearing Lo laugh under her breath.
“It’s fine, Tia. I’ve seen it all before.” Lo suddenly sits up straight. “His chest, I mean.” Her cheeks flame.
I mentally try to assess her disposition. Aside from her embarrassment, her face is fresh and free of makeup, and her cheeks aren’t red and blotchy with tears. She looks well-rested. “You okay?”
Lo nods as Tia slips down off the stool and excuses herself. “I need to get ready.” She beats a hasty retreat, leaving me and Lo alone.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask, and she nods again, taking the small jug of milk and pouring some into my mug. “Thank you.” I smile and take a seat beside her.
“I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself.” Lo raises her mug before taking a small sip.
“Don’t be daft.” I brush her concern aside, starting to nibble on my bottom lip. “Did I imagine you in bed with me last night?”
Her mug falters on its way back to the table, and I detect her discomfort. “I couldn’t sleep.” She smiles awkwardly. “I’m sorry if I overstepped the mark.”
Placing my hand over hers, I squeeze gently. “Did you sleep after hijacking my bed?”
She presses her lips together, hiding her small smile. “Yes.”
“Then I served my purpose well.” I wink cheekily, trying to relax her, and go back to my coffee casually. “Have you eaten?”
“I’m not very hungry.” As she says that, her tummy growls, and her hand starts to circle it over her shirt.
I raise a questioning eyebrow. “I don’t think your stomach agrees.”
“It’s churning too much. I wouldn’t keep anything down if I ate.”
“You need to eat, Lo.” I try to keep my voice soft, yet I hear the annoyance I’ve not concealed too well. “Just some toast or something.” Without waiting for her agreement, I get up and load some bread in the toaster before letting the dogs in. Once the toast has popped up, I spread it lightly with butter, not too much, and slide the plate before her. She looks down at the toast like it’s the biggest challenge she could face.
“I have to go to the funeral directors soon,” she says to the plate.
“Would you like me to come?”
“I’m not sure.” She looks up at me as I take a slice of toast and put it in her hand.
“Just tell me if you do. Or I can drop you off and pick you up. Whatever you want.” I nudge her hand toward her mouth. “Eat.”
She takes the smallest bite and spends ages chewing her way through it before swallowing on a wrinkle of her nose. “I think I’ll go on my own. Billy’s mother might be there, and I can’t handle another confrontation.”
It pains me, but I nod in understanding. “Do you want me to take you?”
“Do you mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind. I’ll get ready.” Heading for the shower, I turn back at the door and point at the plate. “You don’t leave the table until that’s all gone.” I’m deadly serious, though she smiles and takes a sarcastic bite. “Good girl.” I carry on my way but get pulled to a stop when she speaks.
“Luke?”
I turn to face her. “Yes, darling?”
Her eyes drop to the table and she shakes her head. “Nothing.”
I don’t push her. The poor woman must feel like she’s in a vortex of emotions. She’s lost her husband, who told her to let me, a stranger to him, love her. My head is still unable to wrap itself around Billy’s dying words. How he looked at me. The resolution in his unstable voice. I can only imagine the state of Lo’s mind.
I can only love her if she lets me.
And I’m petrified that no matter what Billy said, guilt won’t allow her to do that.
Ever.
Part Eight
Chapter Thirty-Five
My life feels like a split between a thunderstorm and the calm and peace that can be found in the eye of a hurricane. I feel empty and lost, at the mercy of the destruction tainting my life, but calm and serene too. Almost accepting. The calm comes when I think of Luke. The hopelessness comes when I think of Billy. My mind is constantly split. Loss and hope.
I can’t believe he’s gone. I can’t believe the things he said to me before he slipped away from this world. My head could explode with questions—questions I wish I could ask him.