Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Anyway,” I say, when we’re alone again, “I just wanted to tell you that. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better woman for you, or the woman you needed.”
“Jade—”
I take a step backward, reaching for the door handle. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to tell you that. Have a good show tonight.” And then I’m gone, before they can protest or say anything in return.
I didn’t come here to be forgiven or to ask anything of them; I simply wanted to apologize, and now it’s done.
It’s truly done.
I thought closure was supposed to feel good, but it doesn’t. Not at all.
37
What-ifs
When a text alert lights up my phone that night, I realize that I’ve been hoping to hear from the Stanton brothers, but the message is from Becca, just checking in and saying hello. She’s been in touch frequently and has been inviting me to get together with her. I’ll probably go hang out with her sometime soon at Rusty’s, the bar where she works. That’s another place my parents disapproved of for no good reason.
I guess I should start going out, because things truly are finished with the four men, and I need to accept that. At least I was able to apologize.
They say people come into your life for a reason, and maybe the men were in my life to help me grow and make me realize that I can and should be more independent. And to not think negatively about myself. And to be more confident. They helped me change for the better in so many ways, even in such a short time together.
I wonder what my reason was for being in their life? I doubt that I had any positive influence on them.
But I’ll do better next time, with someone else. It’s the only way to move forward.
There are only three days until Christmas and the bakery is busy almost nonstop. The display case is filled with red and green cookies and cakes, or at least it was this morning before the flow of customers started coming in. Maddy’s been working overtime in the kitchen, and her mother, who owned the shop originally, even came in to lend a hand.
I haven’t talked much to my own mother after that irritating Sunday dinner a couple of weeks ago. I told them I was too busy at the shelter to come for the next regularly scheduled meal.
Avoidance isn’t going to be my long-term strategy, but it’s what I’m going with for now. After the holidays, especially if or when they say more hateful things about Lisa and who she’s dating, or if they try to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, then I’ll be prepared for a confrontation, but for now, I’m putting it off in honor of the holidays. I’ll see them on Christmas and be cordial. After that, all bets are off.
It’s getting close to closing time, and the shop is empty for the first time in hours. An instrumental version of one of my favorite Christmas songs is playing, and I realize that I haven’t heard the music all day because of how busy we’ve been. It doesn’t really matter anyway, because I can’t get into the spirit of the season this year.
I can’t help but think about what this coming Christmas might have been like if I’d made different decisions. I could have decorated the men’s house for the holidays. Maybe we would have put up a tree together. I would have loved shopping for gifts for them — shirts in colors that would highlight their beautiful eyes, sexy underwear, pajama pants, books they might like, and of course, gifts for Barnes too.
The door chimes, and I’m grateful for the interruption because my thoughts were headed into tortuous territory, as they often are. I recognize the men coming in — it’s Ash and Derek, two of Lacy’s men, along with little Ollie, who’s holding Ash’s hand and walking on unsteady feet.
“You’re running late today,” I say brightly, in place of a greeting. They’re very frequent customers, so we’re on familiar terms.
“Please tell us you have some left,” Derek says, with the understanding that I’ll know that he’s referring to apple fritters.
“Lucky for you, other people are more interested in Christmas cookies and Yule logs these days. How many would you like?”
“How many do you have?”
I check my inventory and Derek says he’ll take all that I have.
“I didn’t know Ollie was walking already,” I say as I box up the bakery.
“He sure is!” Derek says as Ollie breaks away to reach the display case. “And he’s keeping us on our toes. We’re spending the day together while Mommy goes Christmas shopping with Daddy Nathan and Daddy Landon.” He’s talking to me, but of course the names are for his son’s benefit.